Still-Life
by Der Unsterbliche
Summary: Max stays in touch with Chloe; through this simple action, their entire future together seems to be set in stone. But stones can erode, putting their future at risk when echoes of parallel lives seem to have a very common, very morbid theme. Vanitas: a still-life painting of a 17th-century Dutch genre containing symbols of death or change as a reminder of their inevitability. (AU)
1. I need you

(A/N: My second attempt at a fan-fiction, taking place right after Max moves to Seattle. First chapter of many - comments would be appreciated. This fan-fiction is written in first person, alternating between Chloe and Max's points of view.)

* * *

 **Chapter 1: I need you.**

* * *

 **MAX:**

Sunlight refracted through the glass of water in front of me, rippling with the rolling taps of my fingers on its edge, seated at a desk that had been pushed against the wall. I looked around myself, seeing the dim room with the unmade bed in the corner. The blue paint on the walls resonated with my mood perfectly, and cracked blinds only allowed the sun to filter in where I sat, illuminating dancing particles of dust in the air. Tan colored cardboard boxes sat stacked on top of each other, taking up most of the space.

I didn't want to be there… this new room, in this new house. Far away from the place I called home, and far away from the one who desperately needed me.

Chloe...

There was nothing anybody could do, I watched in horror as her spirit shattered like a dropped porcelain doll. I scrambled to pick up the pieces, but my hands couldn't carry all of them.

She had expressed to me at some point not long before William's death, that her faith in god had been waning. Never had she been one to blindly believe in anything. Chloe liked to question things, why the universe works the way it does.

I remembered part of a conversation we had.

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, think about it Max. How many times have you prayed to god?"

"Uh, too many to count."

"And how many of those prayers have been answered?"

I hesitated for a moment, thinking of my response, "I remember when I was little, I prayed to have a best friend. Somebody I could always love. You were the answer to that prayer."

"Wow...is that true?"

"Of course it is, Chloe. I believe that god meant for us to meet each other."

Not that I was trying to preach to her, but I did genuinely believe a higher power had connected us. She might've believed the same thing, until she lost William.

"What god does this? What _loving_ god breaks up a perfect family?" She'd muttered this to me at his funeral and yanked off her crucifix necklace, casting it to the ground.

I couldn't answer her question, since I was left wondering the same thing.

All I could do was watch, and think, ' _God, if you're there...help her. Please.'_

I wasn't the most religious person on the planet, but I _had_ hoped there was a god.

But faith wasn't my strong suit. I decided to reject god, since he didn't seem to be helping Chloe. Though...not denying his existence, quite frankly I didn't know.

Though I _did_ know I didn't need a god to make things better for her, I'd do it myself.

I was going to help Chloe, my personal _goddess._ But it uh...kinda proved to be a little bit of a challenge, given that I was in a different state.

I'd begged my parents in utter desperation to let me stay with her, and she'd begged them too. I could still hear her cries, as she knelt before them with her face bright red and tears coursing down it.

" _Please! Don't take her from me!"_

" _She's all I have...I need her!"_

I stayed seated at that desk and stared down at the glass of water. A few tears fell from between my eyelashes, dripping into it with tiny plops. My Polaroid camera sat beside it, taunting me.

My hands balled into fists, ' _Me? A photographer? Sure, when hell freezes over. I want to be one so bad, but all the pictures I take are garbage. Who the hell wants to see pictures of squirrels?'_

An urge to dump that glass of water on the camera filled me. My fingertips touched the condensated surface of it, lingering there. I must've sat like that for a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

My hand pulled away, and a wave of shame hit me. ' _What the hell, Max? That'll only make shit worse, and you know it.'_ I rubbed around the wetness between my fingers. The cold liquid dried, and I dropped my hand into my lap again.

I ruminated for a while, feeling regret for having to leave Chloe at such a terrible time. A slight resentment for my parents clawed around in my heart, but I felt guilty about that too. I hoped and wondered if she'd ever listened to the cassette recording I left her. The most painful goodbye I've ever had to utter.

Except that it wasn't a goodbye, I refused to call it that - anything but goodbye.

A flood of tears threatened to burst from my eye sockets, and I gave in, releasing all the pent up hurt that I'd held in for the past few days...or was it weeks? Though of course I knew, I was hurting nowhere near as much as Chloe was. Sobs wracked my body and I let them, no matter how much it hurt.

I promised Chloe we would always keep in touch.

I was determined to keep that promise, even if it meant isolating myself from the rest of the world. It would just be me and Chloe, close yet so distant.

A knock echoed through the empty room, followed by my Mom's voice. I tried to stop crying to no avail; she saw everything.

"Maxine, dinner's ready," she opened the door gently.

Upon seeing my crying face, she clutched me, feeling her warm skin against my comparatively colder flesh. I'm pretty sure she understood what the camera being next to the water meant, but she didn't mention it. I was thankful she didn't.

Her breath warmed the side of my neck, chin on my shoulder, "I'm sorry, baby. I know you're hurting right now, mommy's here."

Sniffling escaped me as tears fell upon the desk, "I… I want to go home, mom."

"Honey...this _is_ our new home."

My voice shook with erratic breaths, "No, this isn't home. Our home is in Arcadia Bay."

"We can always visit, whenever you want."

I shook my head, "Mom, visiting isn't good enough. I want to _live_ there. Chloe needs me right now..."

She hushed her voice, stroking the curtain of hair that hung down around my face, "I know sweetheart, but we can't. Your father's got a better job here, and he makes more money now. Also, you can always _call_ Chloe, she's probably expecting you to."

All I could manage to say was, "Hmm."

She stood up straight, releasing me, "Now come on, Maxine. You need to eat. Your father made barbecue."

I muttered, "I'm not hungry."

"I'm not going to let you waste away over here, I'll just bring the food to you."

My jaw clenched, "I said I'm not hungry, leave me alone."

Mom stood at my side for a few tense moments, before quietly exiting my room.

I continued to wallow in my negative emotions, until my stomach growled painfully. I hadn't eaten anything for a while. I wiped the tears from my eyes and stood up, wincing as muscles in my gut twisted and rumbled.

' _Whoa, I'm starving! Fine, I guess I'll go eat…'_

I opened the white wooden door and stepped into the barren hallway, with its beige carpeting and white painted walls. Admittedly, I did like the carpet. It felt good on my bare feet, its softness cushioning my toes. Not a single light was on in the hallway, and I liked it like that as well.

The hallway opened up into what was to be our living room, with the dining room/kitchen adjacent to that.

We'd already set up our wooden dining table, complete with a matching set of chairs. Mom and Dad were seated at them as the smell of barbecued meats permeated the area.

I sat down at the table, eyeing the food before me, with a chandelier illuminating it all. It was just grilled hot-dogs on buns. Squeeze containers of mustard, ketchup, and pickle relish sat in the center of the table.

My stomach rumbled again, causing a watery mouth.

Dad chuckled through his brown beard, "There she is, we knew you couldn't resist my world famous hot-dogs."

I didn't smile, laugh, or even look at him. I just grabbed a plain hot-dog, contemplating whether to really eat it. Contradicting feelings stewed around in my brain, starving but not wanting to eat. Eventually, I set it back down on the plate.

His voice cut through the silence, tenderly, "Max, sweetheart...are you okay?"

' _No...not really,'_ almost escaped my mouth, but I didn't have the energy to say it.

After I failed to respond, he asked, "Is there anything we can do...to help you?"

A few of my tears dripped onto the table, leaving tiny reflective puddles. Dad got up, bringing his chair by my side and sitting in it. He wiped my tears with his fingers, turning my head towards him as he did. One of his hands gently landed on my shoulder. My body shook, trying to hold back more whimpering sobs. Mom came and stood a few feet behind us, clasping her hands in front of her waist.

He made eye contact with me, his own eyes appearing watery, "Moving sucks, big time."

We just stared at each other for a moment, before he continued, "I know it's my fault. We left at the worst time imaginable. The whole thing with William, it…doesn't make it easier."

He broke eye contact and tilted his head downwards, "Right now, Chloe needs you more than anything. And- and I took that from you."

I shook my head, causing a few more tears to fall, "Dad, _no_...you-"

"If I would've just waited...we could be there still."

My voice had a hint of annoyance, " _Dad,_ there's no way you could've known."

He scratched his lip, raking through his scruffy facial hair, "William...he was like a brother to me. If I could just...shoot the shit and have one more beer with him…"

I began to hyperventilate, pressure building up in my tear ducts, ' _I-I cant...I can't handle this right now.'_

My voice shook, blurting, "I need to get up."

He didn't say a word, taking his hand off of my shoulder and scooting his chair away from me. His downcast face told me he truly was sorry, but I still sorta felt angry at him. I shot a glance at my mom, probably a more fiery one than I meant to. She stood in silence, chewing her lower lip.

I got up, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. My legs carried me away from the table, going into the empty living room.

The surface of the floor transitioned from hardwood to carpet as I entered the hallway again. I continued my determined march, grabbing the house phone and shutting myself in my room.

' _That's it, I'm calling Chloe.'_

* * *

 **CHLOE:**

" _I will always, always love you."_

 _Click - Whir_

" _...always, always love you."_

 _Click - Whir_

" _...will always, always love-"_

 _Click - Whir_

" _I will always, always love you."_

I just kept pressing that rewind button, over and over again. The sadness didn't really bother me anymore, it just made me feel empty, like a piece of me was missing. And… I guess a pretty big piece of me _was_ missing, not just my dad, but Max too. A dad shaped hole in my heart ached with every pulse, and Max was the only one that could somewhat plug it.

She promised we would stay in touch, and I really hoped she'd keep that promise. It wasn't quite a pinky swear, but still punishable by death in my book.

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as the cassette player sat on my abdomen.

What I can only describe as a 'fog of grief,' hung over me, threatening to royally mess up my world. Not a sound was audible in my room, except for my own breathing and the whirring of the air conditioning system.

Reverie and pleasant memories flowed through my mind, leaving me feeling nostalgic. But these memories weren't really distant - in fact, they were probably a few weeks old.

" _Come on, Max! Dance with me!"_

" _But I can't dance...I'm terrible at it."_

" _You can't possibly be that bad. Give it a try."_

I could still hear her laughter and feel her soft hands gripping mine, " _Fine, but you better not make fun of me!"_

" _I won't. Now dance, hippie!"_

 _Max._ God, I missed her so much already. I didn't know how I was going to get through all of this without her.

But geez, some timing huh? My dad dies, and she fucks off to Seattle? Well… against her will, it's not like she _wanted_ to leave. Seriously, on the day they left it was practically a dick measuring contest between Max and I; Who could beg, bitch, and sob the hardest?

It had to be a tie.

I heard the faint ringing of a phone come from downstairs, probably just some more condolences from people who pretended to give a shit. Which seemed like a lot of people lately. But who am I kidding, I knew at least Max cared - which was all that really mattered to me.

More tears emerged, wetting the edges of my eyes. They built up and were about to spill over, like water on the edge of an overfilled glass. But I didn't have any time to let the tears out, since I heard a knock at my bedroom door. My stomach muscles clenched up for a second, and I blinked back the tension behind my eyes.

I used the most 'leave me the fuck alone' voice I could muster, " _Whaaat?"_

The door was locked, so my mom couldn't enter, "Chloe, someone's on the phone for you."

I rolled out of bed after placing the cassette player to my side, and unlocked the door without saying a word to mom. As I opened it, I glanced at her. Her hair was disheveled, hanging down in greasy locks, puffy eyes all bloodshot. I probably looked just as bad as she did, having not showered for a few days and basically fuckin' crying non-stop.

I took the phone from her and put it up to my ear, kicking my funeral dress across the floor and locking the door again. Cool breezes blew in through the open window above my bed, with the silent street below.

I sighed and didn't even try to fake my mood, "Hello?"

A familiar voice cut in from the other end, "Hey, Chloe. It's Max."

Just like that, some of my grief eroded away, "H-hey...how's Seattle?"

Her voice was slightly fuzzy from the audio quality of the phone, "I haven't really paid much attention to it, everything's been a blur."

"Yeah, it really has been."

I heard her breathing on the other end, as if she was hesitating for a moment, "I wish you were here. Or...I wish I were there with you right now."

"I know you do, I feel the same way."

"I'm sorry, Chloe. About everything…"

I was still standing there, so I went back over to my bed and plopped onto it, bouncing for a moment. I stared at the ceiling once again, eyeing the patterns on its bumpy surface, like a giant connect-the-dots.

"There's no need to apologize for anything at all."

Her voice trembled, "But I had to _leave._ I-I tried to stay but I guess I didn't fight hard enough."

That kinda irritated me, I hated it when she pinned this kind of shit on herself, "Max, listen to me. Do not apologize, it's not your fault."

She remained silent on her end.

I didn't like where this conversation was going, so I detoured it, "I listened to the cassette you left me. Thanks, I needed that."

Her voice trailed off, "It was uh, difficult...for me to leave you..."

"I know, Super-Max," deep breath, "I really appreciate how much you care about me."

She spoke after what felt like ages, "I care about you _so_ much, that no cassette tape can explain it."

A brief pause, "I kept rewinding that cassette at the part…" I gulped, trying to fight back more tears that were working their way up.

I shut my eyelids, seeing the colorful patterns of light behind them, "The part where you said you'll always love me."

Another brief pause, "Don't you ever forget it, Chloe. Because I mean it, I'll _always_ love you."

I listened to her say that with my eyes still shut, imagining her lying beside me.

My mouth moved to tell her the same. She continued before I could utter a word, and I opened my eyes again, "Ugh, I hate it here. I've only been here for a few days and I already hate it. I just wish I could run away, you know?"

"Yeah… I know what you mean - but, how come you don't like Seattle?"

" _Duh_ … you're not here with me. I really want to see you."

I pulled out a strand of hair that had made its way into my mouth, "Well, one thing's for sure. We'll see each other again before long."

"Much sooner than you think. I'll come and visit often… Hey! Maybe I can stay for the summer, wouldn't that be great?"

I smiled from ear to ear, "I'd love that."

"Yeah! It'll be just like I never left."

"Yeah…"

Both of us remained silent for a moment, until a short series of sobs sounded in my ear.

I immediately felt my eyes well up again, vision blurring at the edges, "Max… don't cry..."

She took in a deep breath, voice sounding strained, "I'm really sorry...about William. He was like my second dad."

I choked up, "I miss him so much."

"Cherish the memories, Chloe. Never let go of them."

"Never. The…" Hot tears ran from my eyes, wetting my ears as I lay there, but I stayed strong. I didn't want Max to hear me cry.

"The day I die, is the day I forget."

Her voice sounded distant, like she'd pulled her face away from the phone, "Wow, you're so poetic..."

I shook my head, even though she couldn't see it, "Nah, I'm no Robert Frost…"

We sat through another one of those silences. A hummed song came from my mouth, trying to get Max (and myself) to stop sniveling. It worked extremely fucking well.

She'd been listening, "...Obstacles?"

"Heh, yeah…you remember that one?"

She chuckled, "How couldn't I? I've only heard that song a _gazillion_ times."

I grinned, "And it never gets old."

Max continued, "So um, I've got my first day of school tomorrow. I'm really nervous."

I wiped my eyes with my shirt and sat up, "Hey, remember what I told you, Max. Keep your chin up high and smile. _Always_ remember to smile."

She let out a cute giggle, one that practically melted me, "Thank you, Chloe. You have the best advice."

Another voice came in from the other end, sounding very distant, "Max, are you-"

It was impossible to make out what she said, but I could tell it was her mom.

Max's voice turned away from the phone, "Yeah mom… okay, I'll be there in a second."

Her voice was louder again, "Hey, I guess I need to hang up for now… sorry Chloe."

I sifted through a lock of my hair with my nails, "It's okay dude. Tell your parents I said hi."

"Alright, I will. Tell Joyce I'm thinking about her."

Smiling again, I said, "Can do. And… Max?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

And I _meant_ it.


	2. Slice of life

**Chapter 2: Slic** **e of life.**

* * *

 **MAX:**

There were so many people… _too_ many people. I sat in the passenger seat of the car, clutching my bag with a clammy, white-knuckled hand.

To Chloe's suggestion, I didn't put my hair in a ponytail. She bluntly and straightforwardly told me that my hair looks cute when it's down. It was easy for me to listen to her suggestion, since I didn't really like how it looked when it was up. Plus, it meant I wouldn't have to mess around with hair ties or pin back my bangs.

I mumbled, devoid of emotion, staring at the dusty black glove-compartment, "I don't want to go, mom."

Mom held my other clammy hand, "You'll be fine, honey. You're gonna have a good day and you'll make a lot of friends."

I sighed and gently pulled out of our handhold, "Making friends isn't what I'm worried about right now."

"Oh, don't say that!" She gave me a playful, gentle backhanded slap on the shoulder, "Watch, people are going to flock to you like chickens."

" _I'd kinda rather they didn't… though, it'd be hilarious if they literally flocked to me like chickens. You know...clucking and stuff."_ Annnnd… cue the mental image of people with chicken heads, aggressively clucking while surrounding me in a circle.

My head lolled forward as I held in laughter, Mom chuckled too, "What's funny?"

As my giggling came to its decrescendo, I said, "Just… the chicken thing."

I glanced over at the dashboard clock, clearing my throat, "I should probably go, I'm going to be late."

"Alright Maxine, have a good day. Love you." She planted a motherly kiss on my cheek, smelling of lilac perfume.

' _Maxine… ech.'_

A soft sigh escaped me, "Love you too, mom."

I opened the car door and stepped out, shutting it and slinging my bag around my shoulder. A lot of kids of various heights walked all around me as my mom drove off. Idle chatter filled the warm air as I looked up at my gigantic new school. High school, my first year of it. I was fresh meat in the water, surrounded by sharks. The giant structure stood over me ominously, like the clouds of an incoming storm.

' _Okay, Max. You. Can. Do. This. Remember what Chloe said: Chin up high and smile.'_

As I walked towards the front entrance, I held my chin up, smiling was going to be difficult though. I really didn't want to be there, and I wasn't ready to go back to school yet. There were already a few people glancing up at me, but I couldn't really make out what their facial expressions meant.

More than likely, I was going to be shutting everyone out. Chloe was already on my mind, if only we could've gone to school together.

Yeah… that would've been nice, if _only_ I'd gotten into Blackwell like she did.

' _Someday… I'm going to walk through those doors and-'_ my train of thought derailed when I ran into the glass doors of the lobby, bumping my forehead. I yelped in surprise, and my face went hot as I looked around, hoping nobody had seen it. ' _Smooth, Max...really smooth. It's only been two frickin' minutes and you've already embarrassed yourself.'_

As far as I could tell, nobody _had_ seen it. I let out a gigantic sigh of relief, massaging my forehead with my knuckles.

I pulled those glass doors open and stepped in, cool air blowing into my face. It looked even bigger on the inside. The gigantic 30 foot tall lobby opened up into several hallways to the north, east, and west. People were packed in there like sardines, going every which way, the murmurs of their conversations filled the room. It reminded me of some of the crowded subway stations I'd seen in movies, or the bustling streets of New York City...also seen in movies.

Class was starting soon, so I pulled my schedule sheet out of my pocket and unfolded it. ' _Huh, PE first period? Great, I'm gonna have to go around school all sweaty.'_

' _Now...where is PE?'_

I looked around at the many hallways that surrounded me, overwhelmed by the activity. Other students walked past me as I stood there, almost shoving their way through. At least they were apologizing for it, I guess. This average built girl that seemed to be in a hurry made me stumble when she shoulder checked me, causing my bag to slide off onto the floor.

She placed her hands over her mouth, wide eyed, "Ohmygod, I am _so_ sorry…"

I rubbed my shoulder and re-slung my bag around it. She'd checked me kinda hard, "It's okay." This girl went on her way after profusely apologizing some more, passing other people and glancing back at me as she walked.

For some reason, her appearance stuck in my mind. Not necessarily tall, but taller than I was, wearing a red skirt with flowers on it and a darker red shirt. I dunno, maybe it was her long brown hair - or her eyes, also this very deep shade of brown. Or...maybe it was her lightly freckled cheeks - Anyways… I just had this weird feeling I'd be seeing her around.

I flickered my eyes around the lobby, seeing a large blue banner hanging from the ceiling over the northernmost hall, plainly reading 'COUGAR COUNTRY' in bold white text. My mind immediately formed a mental image of a bunch of attractive middle aged women frollicking around in the countryside, pollen in the air around them. I blinked it away, laughing to myself and probably looking like a _total_ lunatic.

For as long as I could remember, I'd always been able to pull daydreams outta thin air like that. It was starting to happen more and more frequently, like my fantasy world was trying its hardest to pull me into it. I fully embraced it, just letting it happen to the detriment of my school work.

There was this other student walking around that seemed friendly enough, but he looked much older than me. A taller guy, chubby-ish but muscular with a slightly dark complexion. Short brown hair sat atop his head, with his hands in the pockets of his dark green cargo pants, wearing a black jacket.

' _Shit, should I ask him where it is? I don't want to look like a total newbie.'_ I furrowed my brows at myself in confusion, ' _Wait, I_ _ **am**_ _a 'newbie' though.'_

Apparently, he hadn't noticed that I was kinda just staring at him. What almost sounded like Chloe's voice in my mind told me, ' _Chin up, Max. Go ask him where the gym is. Oh, and smile.'_

I took a deep breath and approached, dwarfed by him in height, "Hey, I was uh...just wondering where PE is."

He spoke with a slight foreign accent, its origin untraceable. "Uh," he pointed down one particular hallway ahead of us, pulling a hand out of his pocket, "At the end of that hall is the gym."

A slight smile appeared on my face, "Thank you."

When I turned around to walk away, he said something else, "Hey, what's your name?"

' _Shit, Max. Look at what you did, now he wants to talk to you. Don't say something stupid.'_

Pivoting on my heel and facing him again, I blurted, "Max...my name is Max."

He grinned, not appearing to be put-off, "Sweet name, I'm Fernando."

I involuntary gulped, "Well, nice to meet you, Fernando."

His hazel colored eyes blinked, straightening his face, "You a freshman?"

"Yeah, and you?"

"A junior, but I moved here last year."

I scratched my forehead, "Cool, where from?"

"Texas… Austin specifically."

My eyes widened a little, "Wow, Texas? What are you doing all the way up here?"

"I moved in with my aunt and uncle, my parents…" Fernando slouched.

I picked at the skin on my arm, darting my eyes away from him.

He cleared his throat and de-slouched, likely sensing my discomfort, "So, where are _you_ from?"

We made eye contact again, I quit digging into my skin, "Arcadia Bay, Oregon."

His head tilted, "I can't say I've heard of it."

I chuckled, "Yeah, most people haven't. It's a little fishing town on the coast."

He reciprocated with his own little chuckle, "I like little fishing towns. There's this place called Port Aransas in…" His eyes went wide, "Oh _shit_ , you're about to be late! I'm _really_ sorry."

The color probably drained from my face, "What? Oh no…"

I looked around, seeing an emptier lobby, "Uh, which hallway was it again?"

He pointed ahead of us, quieting his voice as he frowned, "That one. Sorry, I didn't mean to hold you back."

I smiled again, "It's alright. See you later, Fernando."

And so did he, "See ya, Max."

The bell rang right as I jogged through those doors. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice. That familiar 'gym floor' smell hit my nose.

The coach was standing at the center of the basketball court. A younger white guy, couldn't have been older than thirty. He wasn't tall, but he was built like an ex-jarhead. I mean, this dude had muscles on top of his muscles. He started to bark out roll call with a husky voice. All the other students lined up against the padded gym wall, and I joined them. It was just your typical basketball court, baskets on either side. On the side opposite of us, there were metal bleachers.

"Barker."

A male voice replied, "Yo."

"Boltz."

A male voice, "Here."

"Cabot."

A female voice, "Here."

Muscle man paused and looked around the room, not seeing me, "Caulfield?"

I was fairly intimidated by this guy, with no idea whether or not he was nice. I couldn't say anything, since I was too nervous. He just looked so... _angry_.

"Caulfield?"

I squeaked out, "H-here..."

He scratched a check onto the clip-boarded sheet of paper he held, I heard a few snickers from the other kids. My cheeks went hot with embarrassment as he continued roll.

I let out a burst of air through my nose, ' _Second time I've done something embarrassing today…'_

Turns out that he was, in fact, an ex-marine. Had the emblem tattooed on one of his calves. Holy shit though, he was a _total_ teddy bear. I talked to him a little bit and he told me he was actually a _huge_ nerd for instant cameras, after I'd mentioned mine.

I also overheard (not from him) that he was in Fallujah in 2004. So, that warranted some _mad_ respect.

Yet at the end of gym class, I no longer felt intimidated by him. Don't judge a book by its cover, they say.

* * *

 **CHLOE:**

The tide brought sea foam upon my feet as they sloshed through the water, sinking into the damp sand as my footprints washed away with the ebbing waves. A breeze blew my hair around, whipping me in the face and causing me to wince.

' _Okay, that's annoying.'_

I paused for a moment and tossed my hair into a ponytail, looking down at the granules of sand that speckled my feet. A wave came in and washed them clean. I swivelled my body to face the horizon, the sun stood high in the sky, warm rays of light reflected off the calm ocean.

' _Damn, if only Max were here. She'd be taking loads of pictures right now.'_ I kicked at the sand, sending some flying in wet clumps.

The sloshing of wet footsteps became audible, I looked to see a sweat-soaked man jogging with his dog, a German Shepherd.

He waved and said, "How's it going?" as he jogged past me.

As he trotted away, growing smaller and smaller, I couldn't help but stare at his dog. It reminded me of Bongo for some reason, my recently deceased cat. ' _They say that dogs are man's best friend, but they can't be as good a friend as Max is to me, right?'_

I continued to watch them as they disappeared around a large rock, jamming my hands into the pockets of the grey hoodie I wore.

My attention shot back towards the rolling sea ahead of me, ' _I'm not sure I'm ready for another pet quite yet. Losing Bongo sucked ass, who knew I'd cry so hard over a cat? The only time I've cried harder was…'_

Dad's name blew through my mind as fresh pangs of loss shot me in the chest.

' _No no no, not right now. Please, not right now.'_ I took in a deep shaky breath, and strained my eyes to hold in the tears. I won that battle.

I let out a sigh of relief, ' _Shit, that was way too close…'_

Damn, and just when I thought I'd gotten better - here I go again, having ya know… feelings and shit. Feelings I wish I could bury… ugh, six feet under. Shit. I needed to read one of those self help books, because what I was doing was _not_ helping.

I stood there in pseudo-catatonia, until my mind flickered back to life like a rebooted computer, 'Dogs… dog, running dude.'

Lightbulb, ' _Hmm, I guess if I ever got another pet, I'd want it to be a dog. Shit, maybe I_ _ **do**_ _need another animal.'_

I envisioned the possibilities, ' _A Chihuahua? No. A Pomeranian? No. A Pitbull? Hell yes, a badass carnivore who'll always protect me. What would I even name it?'_

More waves crashed into my feet, wetting the cuffs of my un-rolled up jeans, ' _What if I named it Max? Huh, would she think I'm weird? I mean, if she got a pet and named it Chloe, I might be weirded out.'_

A bug landed on my face and I swatted it away, ' _No… actually, I wouldn't be weirded out, I'd be flattered. Okay then, Max it is… I'd just have to convince my mom to buy me a ferocious Pitbull. Piece of cake. Max, my four legged guardian, fighting alongside my two legged friend by the same name… fuck yes.'_

I sighed through my nose, ' _Well, mom's probably wondering where I am. I guess I should go back?'_

But then I remembered there was this record store I wanted to check out, not far from where I was. I was in the mood for some more 'rebellious' music.

I walked back over to my shoes, which sat beside a rickety old bench that looked like it'd give you splinters if you sat on it. They were just plain old slip on shoes, the same black ones I'd worn to the funeral.

I yanked a piece of crinkled paper out of one of my jean pockets. It was a printed off map of how to get to this record store, which couldn't have been more than a few blocks from my house.

After poring it over, I knew more or less how to get there without the map, so I stuffed it back into my pocket. I slipped on those shoes after scraping my feet of sand, not quite getting all of it, and started walking in the direction of the store.

After about a minute of walking, I had to stop and do a better job of getting the gross wet sand off of my feet. I could only take so much gross crunching and grinding in my shoes.

Ten minutes is about how long I walked after that, and I'd made it to a street crossing; there stood the record store. I darted across the street through the stopped cars, and peered into its large glass window, seeing rows upon rows of cd's and vinyl records.

' _Jackpot.'_

I swung the door open and swaggered in, scanning the room for cameras.

' _Bingo, no cameras that I can see._ '

There were a few other people in there, the owner sat behind his counter, burning incense. This guy looked like a hippie straight out of the 70's, probably stoned out of his mind too. He was even complete with the tie-dye shirt and long greasy hair. I turned off to my right when I entered, stopping at a rack that must've had a hundred cd's. I looked through it, ' _Okay, what here is rebellious? Nope...this is all country music.'_

I turned 180 degrees to face the rack directly behind me. ' _Gospel music, ew. They have to be sectioned off somehow, lets see…'_

I peered around the room, and spotted a white sign bearing the words 'METAL' that hung from the ceiling. ' _Hey, metal's rebellious! I'll go there.'_

A guy stood in the way as I tried to get to the metal section, "Excuse me."

"Oh, sorry," he said, letting me go past him. He smelled strongly of cigarettes and beer, wearing a black shirt that said 'SLAYER' on it in a jagged red font. That name was oddly familiar, like I'd seen it before.

I now stood before a large collection of metal cd's, not seeming to be organized in any way. I pulled out dusty cd after dusty cd, reading them.

' _Slugfuck...Shit Bath...Death… Woah, they aren't playing around with these band names.'_

I kept thumbing through them, ' _I can't even read this one… Equine Evisceration? Huh, what about this one… shit, this one's hard to read too.'_

I squinted at it, barely making out the words on the gore soaked album cover, ' _Baby…...Strangler… Brutal?'_ The album cover wasn't very pleasant to look at, that's for sure.

After I put Baby Strangler back, out came another cd. ' _Oh shit, Slayer!'_ I glanced back over at the Slayer shirt guy, seeing he was still there. And now my attention was back on the cd, reading it, ' _Hell Awaits… that's badass. Yep, I'm taking it.'_

I looked over both of my shoulders and stuffed the cd into my hoodie pocket, fitting in there snugly. ' _Huh, you can't really see that I have anything in there, good. It's a good thing these pockets are huge.'_

' _Damn, am I really doing this?'_ Nervous footstep after nervous footstep brought me to the shop door. My hand barely touched the handle, when a male voice barked from behind me, "Hey! You need to pay for that!"

That hippie totally sounded like a snarling dog, I could hear him come out from behind his counter… kennel.

My stomach flipped upside down and I froze for a second, "Get your thieving ass over here right now, girly!"

' _Girly? Who the fuck says that?'_ I shoved open that door and darted into the street. Traffic was apparently moving, and my 'thieving ass' nearly got flattened by a massive lifted truck. The driver, er… over-compensator, held in his blaring truck horn for a good few seconds. I got clear just in time as he yelled something out of his open window, but I didn't understand it.

I ran and ran and ran, lungs burning from exertion. The world passed by me in a blur as I covered ground. One block… two blocks… three blocks… and I felt like I was about to drop dead. I kept going, needing to cover that final block home. Finally, my house came into view. I sprinted the last stretch, and the sound of my now bare feet slapping on the smooth concrete surface of the driveway sent a wave of panic through me. I wheezed and spluttered, bending over with my hands on my knees. My heart pounded so hard and fast, that it felt like it was going to explode out of my chest, ' _My shoes… where the fuck are my shoes? Not good. How am I going to explain that to mom?'_

I felt for the cd in my pocket, ' _You better be worth it, Slayer.'_

After catching my breath, I went around to the side of the half-painted house, seeing my bedroom window was still open. I stood atop a trashcan and climbed onto the roof and into my room, gripping the coarse surface of the roofing with my feet. Adrenaline still surged through my body, leaving me shaky. My heart continued to thud in my chest.

' _Jesus H. Christ. I think I almost died back there.'_ I slowed down my breathing and smirked to myself, ' _Good lookin' out, Jesus.'_ But then I remembered I didn't _believe_ in Jesus, so I thanked the flying spaghetti monster instead.

My hands fumbled, pulling the cd out of my pocket and peeling off the plastic wrapping. I went over to my stereo system, pulling the disc out. ' _Well, Hell Awaits.'_ Uh, it wasn't _my_ stereo system, but _Dad's._ I'd put in my room earlier that day, in anticipation of getting a cd. He… probably wouldn't have approved of me stealing, but it's not like he was there to stop it from happening.

The stereo made a whirring noise as it accepted the cd, and the music started to play. I adjusted the volume, not hearing anything at first. But a faint sound eventually could be heard, so I left it alone and plopped onto my bed.

It quietly faded into an intro, sounding like someone speaking backwards. After give-or-take a minute, the drums and distorted guitars kicked in, slowly building into a groovy beat. ' _Huh. Okay, I can dig this.'_ The music sped up after a bit, turning into a thrashy portion. It was fairly different than the stuff I'd normally listened to: Indie music like Bright eyes and Syd Matters. There was something about the pure aggression of this Slayer album that made me start to nod my head with the rhythm. I listened to all forty minutes of it, enjoying all of those minutes.

After getting up and ejecting the cd, I put it back in its case. Then, I slid it under my bed, ' _Damn. I think Slayer has a new fan.'_

Slayer was worth it.

* * *

(A/N: Thoughts so far?)


	3. Head in the clouds

(A/N: This chapter proved to be really challenging to write, for reasons unknown to me. My plan for the next several chapters is to highlight how Max and Chloe change over the span of a few months, before jumping forward in time a bit. This whole portion of the fanfic is basically just the beginning of the story, before the plot really comes in. Anyways, without further ado… here's the third chapter of Still life.)

P.S. Thank you for reading to this point!

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Head in the clouds.**

* * *

 **MAX:**

The sea was a harsh mistress. Slamming and crashing into the hull of the pirate ship: _The Executioner_. The boomin' thunder n lightning in the black sky above rattled one's bones. Hammering sheets of rain poured down upon us, as we kept our footin' on the violently swaying wooden deck. I made quick work of the hatches, battening 'em down. Our skeleton crew lay scattered in a pile of bones, bracing themselves as waves ripped and tore at our vessel. Surely, Davy Jones' locker was expecting us.

"Thar she blows!" Yelled the infamous Captain Bluebeard, standing at the helm and pointing a finger ahead. The scourge of Arcadia Bay had one booted foot firmly planted on the deck, and a wooden peg served as the other foot. A beautiful, fearsome young lass, and a bloody good captain. What more could I ask for, being her first mate? Our crew adjusted the sails, at my command.

Towards where she pointed a finger, swam a spectacular sight. A massive serpent… _the_ massive serpent.

 _Leviathan._

At last, our hunt was drawing to an end. We wished to be known as the fiercest pirates of all the seven seas, the slayers of a legendary beast. And this _Leviathan_ had something we wanted. The most powerful artifact known to man, so ancient… so dangerous, that it had to be cast to sea to prevent it from finding its way into evil hands. The amulet of Chronos, the god of time. Said to be the shape of an hourglass, and deadly. A mere ungloved touch would render mortals to a gelatinous mass of viscera and gore.

He or she who were fortunate and daring enough to get their hands on it, would be able to bend time to their will. But… the legend spoke of a terrible cost, those who were careless risked tearing the world apart, pebble by pebble, mountain by mountain. Yet, we were willing to take this risk. Bluebeard was determined to snatch it from the teeth of this slimy beast, and use the amulet's power for good.

This had taken me aback. A fearsome pirate? Use the powers of a deity for good? My bout of introspection was interrupted by a thrashing tail, sending a goliath of a wave in our direction from half a nautical mile away. I raised my gruff voice, as my bandana soaked through with frigid rain, "Cap'n Bluebeard! Rogue wave!" A boom and a blinding flash o' lightning struck the sea, sending a jolt of blue electricity fizzling through it. The torrent of rain kept up, pounding me like small stones.

"Aye! Brace yerselves!" She steered the bow of the ship to face it head on, and a massive impact surged through the wooden vessel, pitching backward and forward as it rode over the wave. The salty sea poured over the bones clustered on the deck, and re-formed into our undead crew, who immediately stood by for more orders. I fired a glance at Bluebeard, who gave me a nod. There needn't be words exchanged between the two of us, a mere gesture and the meaning was clear.

I yelled at the top of my lungs towards the algae-clad undead, "Rrrready the harpoons!" Our crew scattered and shuffled along the deck to their stations, pulling massive harpoons from a set of wooden boxes with impossible strength.

Another bellowing yell bubbled from within me as I drew my cutlass, pointing the tip towards the skeletons some distance away, "Load!" The walking piles of bones jammed the roped harpoons into a series of specialized cannons located at the-

"Miss Caulfield, are you with us?"

...bow. "Aim!" Boney hands grabbed the handles, pointing the sleek black barrels at the-

"Miss Caulfield."

I snapped out of it, sitting at a desk in history class. My mind was pretty much blank, "Er...uh..."

"I need you to be paying attention, okay?" Said Mr. Evans, my middle aged teacher. Clean shaven and partially balding, wearing your run-of-the-mill pair of prescription glasses. In shape though, looking good for a man his age.

"Yes... sir." A few snickers and chuckles from my peers, and my face went hot for the five billionth time that day. ' _Ugh, I zoned out again.'_

"Okay, who can tell me the name of the privateer that attacked Panama City in January, 1671?" He stood at the front of the class, raising his voice ever so slightly to be heard by all 28 students in the room.

A female voice from the back of the room said, "Max can't." A few 'oooo's' came from some of the other kids.

And now my face was on fire. I spun around to see who'd said that, but I couldn't tell who. So I faced forward, dejected.

He glared at whoever the voice came from, "Emma, since you're so intent on being _rude_ to a classmate. How about _you_ tell me the answer to my question?"

This 'Emma' blurted, "Captain Henry Morgan." I turned around again and saw her: a skinny, red-headed, green eyed girl, wearing a generic gray t-shirt and jeans. The class bully, apparently. She sneered at me when we made eye contact, and I faced forward, self-esteem falling down another notch.

"Correct. Now... just correct your _attitude_." Man, Mr. Evans wasn't taking any shit from her.

She countered with her high-pitched voice, "Well, maybe _Maxi-pad_ over there should-"

"Leave Max alone," cut in another female voice, slightly deeper. I resisted the urge to turn back around, crossing my arms on the desk and burying my head in them, hair draping over.

Emma stuttered, "M-make me, bitch."

The other voice mocked her, "Muh-muh- _make_ you? Oh, you forgot. I'm the one that kicked your ass, remember?"

"Girls, _enough!"_ Mr. Evans bellowed, and their bickering ceased.

A scoff escaped from the other voice, "Are you really just going to let her treat Max like that?"

This was getting to be too much for me. Tears began to puddle on my desk.

Emma tried to retort, "Mr. Evans, I-"

"Shut up," but was silenced again by the other girl.

He let out an irritated sigh and piped up again, "Emma, see me after class. This is the third time in two weeks you've been like this, and quite frankly, I'm sick of it."

Emma huffed and kept her mouth shut. Good on her.

I sniffled and raised my head from the desk, revealing my teary-eyed face and the wetness on the desk. My voice shook despite my efforts for it not to, "Mr. Evans, can… can I go into the hallway?"

A regretful frown washed over his face, "Sure, Max."

I scooted out of the seat and stood up, walking towards the door.

My defender asked, "Can I go with her?"

"Uh, why?" He questioned, as I paused with my fingers wrapping themselves around the metallic handle.

She fumbled for a reason why, "Because..."

"It's fine… she can come," I uttered with a still shaky voice.

The sound of rustling clothing came nearer to me as I twisted the handle and stepped out. A now silent hallway was a welcome surprise as I wiped away my tears with my fingers and leaned against the wall. Mr. Evans' room door shut with a slight bang, and in the corner of my eye I could see a few different shades of red, which came to my side. A quick turn of the head and I was met with another surprise.

The brown eyed, brown haired girl who had bumped into me earlier in the day. The one who had profusely apologized to me. The one who had defended my sorry ass when I couldn't.

And… I didn't even know her name, yet she knew mine.

I failed to see how I didn't notice her in class, but then I remembered: I'd spent that entire class period daydreaming about an epic pirate adventure.

My back slowly slid down against the wall as I sat cross-legged, ' _Wowser, when I daydream… I_ _ **really**_ _get into it…'_

This mysterious girl sat down with me, crossing her legs out in front of her and adjusting her red skirt. I avoided looking at her and just stared down at my jean-clad legs. We sat in silence as some other person passed by, footprints echoing through the hallway. She eventually spoke, obviously trying to be as gentle as possible, "I'm sorry that happened."

I listened to those words and tossed them around in my head for a moment, before asking in a mumble, "Why did you help me?" It probably came out sounding kinda ungrateful, not what I was going for.

When I glanced back up at her, she'd tilted her head, chest-length hair falling over her shoulder, "Why wouldn't I?"

I felt myself blush and once again, looking away from her, seeing the reflection of the fluorescent lighting on the white hallway floor, "I...unh. I don't know."

She popped a few of her fingers, "I just had to stand up to her again. It just isn't fun to be picked on," from my peripheral vision, I could see her scoot a tiny bit closer. "I was in your shoes, once. But one day I snapped and uh… fought Emma, and won. She really isn't as tough as she thinks she is."

I gave a nervous chuckle, wiping the remnants of my dry tears and eye boogers away, "Yeah, I heard the part where you said you kicked her ass."

She let out a soft laugh, "Yep, I _annihilated_ her."

I couldn't help but smile a bit, knowing that I might've just met a potential friend, "Thank you."

"Anytime, Max."

We both sat there for a while in silence, hearing the dull hum of activity in the classroom through the shut door.

I locked eyes with her, feeling a little more comfortable, "I… never did catch your name."

She smiled slightly, "My name's Kristen."

My lips formed into a sheepish grin, "I'm Max… but, you know that already."

Kristen rubbed the back of her neck, "Uh, I know I said sorry earlier, but I feel _really_ bad about bumping into you."

I gave a slight shrug, "No worries, you've more than redeemed yourself."

After a pause, she asked, "Um. So, what's your next class?"

I fished the schedule sheet out of my jean pocket and read it, "Art… with Mrs. Wheeler."

Her eyes went wide with a mixture of surprise and joy, "Hey, me too!"

And just like that, my day at school took a turn for the better.

* * *

 **CHLOE:**

Green.

So green.

The forest I stood in seemed like a place straight out of a fairy-tale. Lush, vibrant trees surrounded me in every direction, sheltering the songbirds that serenaded me, their calls creating the most breathtaking soundscape. My bare feet caused the vegetation to rustle and crunch with every step. A quick downward glanced revealed I was wearing a bright, flowy white dress. The incredible softness of its material brought an extraordinary comfort to me.

The cotton-like clouds in the blue sky above, which I could see through the branches of the trees, whisked overhead at an incredible speed... like a time-lapse.

Everything else seemed to move slower here, my every movement was as if I were submerged in water. In my serene trek through the forest, the trees opened up into a clearing. A very familiar wooden structure sent many sweet memories washing over me.

The treehouse… _our_ treehouse.

Man, Max and I had spent _so_ much time up there. If only she could see this the way I was seeing it. It drew nearer and nearer, as every little detail of it became more discernable.

Perched upon the only tree in this grassy green clearing, with its wooden ladder rungs and its corrugated tin roof, was the remnants of a magical childhood. This place meant so much to me, it was so frozen in time. It only felt like yesterday when Max and I saw it first, when Dad had revealed his work to us. I ran my fingertips along the tree's bark, feeling its life-force surge through them with a tingle. Vines had intertwined themselves among the rungs of the ladder, wrapping like hundreds of coiled springs.

A familiar, soft male voice came from behind me, "Chloe…"

My knee-length dress twirled and fanned out, as I spun around in this slowed down world.

There he was, wearing a white robe, looking at me with those blue eyes. That same strawberry blonde hair color was the one we shared, his entire body encased in a warm ethereal glow.

" _Dad!"_ I ran into his outstretched arms, catching me as I clung to him, feeling his warmth and the pressure of his body against mine. I shut my eyes tight, my ear against his chest, hearing the beating of his heart. Tears streamed down my face, dripping from my chin onto the grass.

My voice shook, hardly containing the overwhelming mixture of sadness and happiness I felt, "I miss you so much."

His chest vibrated against my ear, "I miss you too, my little angel."

I sniffled, "Why did you have to go?"

"It was just my time."

Rage seethed within me, "But, it's not _fair!"_

He ran his hand through my hair, "I know, sweetheart. But, sometimes, life just isn't."

My teeth clenched, "Life can… life can eat a bag of dicks."

His tone lowered, "You know Joyce and I don't appreciate that kind of language."

I stifled a sob, "Why do you care? You're dead."

"I _care_ because I'm your father, and even in death I'm with you."

My lower lip quivered, "How can you be with me if you're six feet under?"

He calmed me with a voice like velvet, "Just look inside yourself. The feelings in your heart, the memories… that's me, staying with you forever."

I pulled my head back to look up at him, face inches from his, with my arms still wrapped around his torso, "Forever?"

" _Forever."_

He wiped my tears with both his thumbs as I choked out, "Will I ever see you again?"

"Of course you will, I'm as much a part of you as those beautiful eyes of yours."

We just held each other for a while, feeling each other's breaths. A question burned inside of me, "Is being dead… painful?"

His hands wrapped around my forearms, taking a slight step back, "No. It's peaceful, and calm. There's no more pain, or anger, or fear. Just pure bliss."

I took in a deep breath, "That sounds kinda nice..."

One of his hands released me, and he held it palm to the sky in the space between us. A gorgeous blue butterfly sat upon it, fluttering its wings, "You know, Chloe. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that death is only the beginning."

His eyes blazed fiery red like coals, voice deepening into a sick guttural gurgle as he snapped his hand shut, _**crushing**_ the butterfly, " _As you'll soon find out."_

I awoke with a groan, my cheek had sunken into my tear-soaked pillow, matting my hair against my face. As I rolled from my side to my back, staring up at the ceiling with my un-blanketed body in the sunlit room, all I could think was, ' _The fuck_ _kind of dream was_ _ **that**_ _?'_

I'd taken a nap after listening to that album. Sprinting those several blocks _definitely_ tired me out. I glanced over at the alarm clock to my left, seeing that it was 3:47 P.M.

It had turned out to be a pretty long nap.

The doorbell rang downstairs, startling me to a seated position. I could hear faint murmuring between my mom and a male voice. My mind still swam with a cluster of strange feelings over this dream I'd just had. I mean, what the _fuck_ happened? It was so nice and then, boom! Dad went all 'Satan' on me...

But, it wasn't _really_ my dad, was it? I sure as hell hoped it wasn't. He was so real, everything about that dream was. It was like I'd actually contacted him. But, it didn't make any sense, what did he mean by, ' _As you'll soon find out?'_ I couldn't help but be kind of afraid, what he said was just so _dark_ and foreboding. My brain decided to detour and start thinking about my mom, wondering if she'd had dreams like this recently. ' _Should… should I tell her about it? Or, is it just too fucked up to share?'_

After a few more moments of thinking on it, I came to no real conclusion. ' _If it keeps happening, then I'll tell her. Maybe.'_

I heard their voices go silent for a moment, before my mom's voice boomed from downstairs, "Chloe _Elizabeth_ Price, get down here! Now!"

It completely caught me off guard, ' _Whoa, mom does_ _ **not**_ _sound happy.'_

While still sitting there, I turned around to look out of the window above my bed.

There, parked in the driveway... was a fucking _cop car._

I let out the sharpest of gasps as my stomach tied and untied itself into knots. ' _Shit! Fuck no! I know what this is about!'_

"Chloe!"

' _Fuck, this is about the goddamn cd! Not even five hours later and I've been made!'_

I stammered, trying to yell back a response to my mom, "Fu…uh. Okay, I'm coming!"

I bolted out of bed and kneeled, fishing out the cd from underneath it, ' _Shit shit shit, I have to hide this!'_

Not being able to think of a good hiding spot, I threw it under my bed again. After pacing around in my room for a few panic filled moments, I decided to suck it up and go out there.

My heart was in my mouth as I opened my bedroom door, body tensing up like I was bracing for a sucker-punch to the gut. I became much more aware of my heartbeat, as my hands went clammy and shook like a motherfucker at my sides.

Mom was waiting for me at the bottom of the steps, crossing her arms and glaring at me with the same fierceness that Dad had given me in my dream, er… nightmare?

I froze at the top of the stairs. My voice shook in a futile attempt to lighten the mood, as I gave an awkward wave and smile, 'H-hi, mom!"

She glowered, sunlight filtering in through the small windows by the door, "Get down here." It almost looked like she had that same glow dad did, as a trick of the light.

Standing behind her was Officer Berry, holding what appeared to be my missing shoes in his hands.

The same Officer Berry that gave us our bad news...

Even when Dad was still alive, Mom had always been the disciplinarian, and groundings were her favorite weapon. So, I was probably about to get the world's _biggest_ grounding. A grounding so large, that it'll be in one of those world record books.

I walked down a few steps, not taking my eyes off of my mom the entire time. I'm pretty sure I felt my teeth chattering.

Step… step… step… step… step… step… step, and I was standing directly in front of her, with her death stare fixated on me. Most of the time, my mom was a very gentle person, but woe to the unfortunate soul that upset her.

Woe is me, I guess… 'cause I upset the _fuck_ out of her.

She widened her stance and asked me, arms still crossed, "Would you mind explaining why you thought it was okay to steal?"

"Uh…"

"Where is it? Where is the cd?"

I lied through my teeth, "I… don't know what you're talking about."

She lowered her eyebrows, "Chloe, don't you _dare_ lie to me. Where did you put it?"

I shook my head, "I don't know."

Officer Berry commanded, one hand still carrying my shoes by his side, "Listen to your mother and go get it."

Anxiety shot through me as I asked with a trembling voice, darting my eyes between the both of them, "I'm not… going to _juvie,_ am I?"

He assured, "No, I'm just asking that you return the cd."

' _Phew.'_

I let out a sigh, part relief, part exasperation, "Fine."

I ran back up the stairs to my room, grabbing the cd from under my bed and double-timing back to Mom and Officer Berry, who kept quiet the rest of the time. My hand placed the cd in her hand.

She turned it over a few times, reading it with a crinkled nose, "Slayer: Hell Awaits? What _is_ this, Chloe?"

"It's nothing."

Her gaze locked onto mine again, holding the cd at her chest level, "Well, it's obviously _something._ What kind of music is this?"

I shrugged, "I dunno… heavy metal?"

She frowned, obviously disappointed, "Chloe…"

" _What?"_

Her cd holding arm dropped to her side, "I'm _very_ disappointed in you."

Called it.

"You know better than to _steal._ And this music, I don't even have to listen to it to tell that it's hateful."

She raised up her arm to eye level and turned the case over, reading the song names on the back, "I mean, Kill Again? _Necrophiliac?_ Nuh-uh, my daughter will _not_ be listening to this."

I threw up my arms, "Mom, it's just mu-"

"What would your father think of you stealing, Chloe?"

Taking a step back, I growled, "Do _not_ bring Dad into this."

She continued, "I'm sure he'd be just as disappointed as I am." Her words hit me like a freight train full of negative emotions; I didn't want to hear how disappointed my dead dad would be in me.

Because I fucking _knew…_ I knew how disappointed he'd be. I didn't need mom to tell me that.

My hands balled into fists at my sides, "Mom!"

"You can't just _do_ things like that."

I erupted into tears, " _Stop, please!"_

She sharply sucked in a gasp, and stepped forward in an apologetic attempt to comfort me, "C-Chloe I'm-"

I shoved her away, wetness building up on my face as I struggled to breathe through suffocating sobs.

"I'm sorry..."

I exploded in between my sobbing and anger, "I _fucking_ hate you!"

Her jaw fell open and her eyes went wide, in what was probably the most horrific expression of shock I'd ever seen. Officer Berry seemed to be shocked too, but quickly returned to his stone-faced look.

I frantically yelled, "Mom! I-I didn't mean that!"

She shook her head and handed me the cd, speaking in a low voice and scowling, "Chloe, first of all: you will _not_ speak to me like that again, do you understand?"

I clutched it in my shaky hands, furrowing my brows at her in confusion, "Y-yes, ma'am."

"Second of all: Officer Berry will take you to that record store, you will return that cd, and you will _apologize_ to the owner."

A bewildered me retorted, " _What?_ No!"

"This is not up for debate, you will do as I say."

"That's bullshit!"

She stabbed a finger at me, "And watch your mouth, young lady."

Officer Berry handed her my shoes, and she tossed them in front of me, hitting the floor with a slap.

She gestured to them with a nod of the head, "Put those on."

I groaned and reluctantly slipped them onto my feet.

I fucked up, and I take back what I said about Slayer being worth it… _because it fucking wasn't._

* * *

Wow, that _sucked._

Officer Berry opened the back door of his police cruiser, and I stepped out onto my driveway, sans the cd and sans my dignity.

Thinking back to when I walked back inside of that record store, I did happen to find a camera right above the door. The only place I _didn't_ check. So, that was probably how I got tracked down.

The hippie dude still sat behind his counter, and at first he was kinda pissed about the cd. But, he let up on me quite a bit. I guess he'd taken his toke break or something, because this didn't seem like the same angry hippie from earlier.

Angry hippie.

 _Angry..._

 _Hippie..._

Something about that sounds really weird.

Anyways, after I'd given him back the cd and apologized until my mouth practically fell off, I walked out of the store where Officer Berry was waiting.

I got in the back of that police cruiser, thinking to myself, ' _This… probably won't be the last time I end up in the back of one of these.'_

So, there I stood on my driveway. Officer Berry was behind me as we walked to the front door. My mom stood on the outside of it, smoking a cigarette.

Shit, I'd really driven her there. I thought she had quit smoking. But, there she was, doing it.

I quickly looked at the half-painted blue exterior of the house, and tried to shut away any negative thoughts that might've come bubbling up.

But one of them made it through.

' _Dad'll never get to finish painting that.'_ Thankfully, my thoughts were interrupted as we now stood before her.

Mom stubbed out the cigarette with a stomp of her shoe, and addressed Officer Berry, "Thank you, sir."

He nodded, hands on his police duty belt, "Yes, ma'am."

After a brief exchange of glances between him and I, he got in his cruiser and left, leaving me alone with my disappointed mother.

Officer Berry wasn't the most talkative guy, that's for sure.

Mom sighed and opened the door, stepping inside the house, "Come inside, Chloe. We need to talk."

I followed her, closing the door behind me, "Did we not have a talk earlier?"

"Not one I'm happy with," she turned to face me.

I crossed my arms, "Fine. _Talk_ then."

She snorted in frustration, "You've never done anything like this."

I bared teeth, "Yeah, well… that was before."

Mom lamented, "Before… your father?"

"Yes, Mom. Before Dad _died_."

She shook her head, "Chloe, I understand why you're acting this way."

I snapped, "Really now, _do you?"_

She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Please, drop the attitude. _Please."_

My arms fell and swung at my sides, "Mom, I just miss him."

Her arm fell too, "Me too. You're not the only one hurting."

"I know."

I looked down and away from her, "I have something I need to tell you."

She stood silently.

"I uh… I had a dream about him, when I was taking a nap earlier."

I continued, "Well, it was a nightmare, more than anything."

"Oh, Chloe… that's awful."

My eyes shut, "Yeah…"

"So, you're having dreams about him too…"

I looked back up at her, "Wait, you dream about him too?"

She gave a wistful frown, "Yeah, every night."

"Do… do you mind telling me what they're like? The dreams?"

She looked away in contemplation, "Uh, they're mostly about us as a family. You're in the dreams too, and you're just so happy to see him. And… so am I."

' _I feel nauseous.'_

My knees wobbled, "We should… go sit down, or something."

I numbly made my way over to our couch in the living room, and Mom followed me, sitting to my left as I sunk into it.

Leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, I croaked, "In my nightmare, I was at the treehouse."

My head hung low, "Dad was there, and it was all so _real_. Like… I was actually there with him. He, uh… _We_ talked to each other and I… He just..." I buried my face in my hands.

I couldn't do it... I couldn't talk about it. The sudden wetness on my hands made me realize I was crying again.

She placed a hand between my shoulders, which shook during my crying fit.

My hands muffled my voice, "Mom, I am _so_ sorry. I didn't... _mean_... what I said earlier."

"It's okay. Sometimes when we're upset, we say things we don't mean. And, _I'm_ sorry too, for bringing your father into it."

After my sobbing died down, I wiped my hands on my pants, "That hurt me, Mom. But, I forgive you."

I took a deep breath, "I'm sorry for stealing, also."

She wiped my eyes with her other hand, turning my head her way, "I know you are. Just… promise me something, Chloe."

"Yeah?"

"Never do that again."

"I promise... I'll _never_ do that again."

At that second, the house phone rang.

* * *

(A/N: Man, that got really angsty for a bit. I felt like I needed to end it on a higher note. The next chapter or two might be pretty angsty as well, but I promise this fanfic will get fluffy before long.)


	4. Moving on?

(A/N: Hey, sorry about the wait. I've just been trying to take my time with writing. Thank you for reading, and thanks to those that have followed, favorited, and/or reviewed. Your support keeps me motivated!)

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Moving on?  
**

 **MAX:**

I had to ride the school bus the next morning, since my parents were both busy and didn't actually have time to take me to school. The previous evening, I had a long phone conversation with Chloe, and the idea of her coming to visit me in Seattle came to light. She said it'd be over that summer, and that she was really looking forward to it, as was I.

I hadn't told her yet, but I was beginning to develop a crush on her. I came to the realization after I thought about a time we'd stayed up on a rainy night, reading scary stories. She was a _fantastic_ story teller, and we couldn't sleep, scared of the monsters from the story— but we were about seven and eight years old, so it was fairly normal, I guess. In an attempt to comfort ourselves we had cuddled up in my bed, and we fell asleep that way. There were a few more occasions where we'd cuddled like that, but it wasn't anything I thought of as weird, because it was more or less platonic.

I think?

I stood outside in the cool morning mist, near the slightly dented mailbox in front of my house, carrying all of my school stuff and my instant camera. I couldn't really go anywhere without that thing, it was like an extension of myself. I felt it through the fabric of the bag against my hand, as the headlights of a yellow school bus came around the street corner. The sun was only beginning to rise, and I had to be out there kinda early. Like, 6:40 AM early, which meant I'd been awake since about 5:30. I was definitely feeling the effects of it.

The bus pulled up in front of me, opening its side door with a whooshing sound. The lights on the inside came on, and I walked up the few steps, greeted by an African-American woman. We exchanged 'good mornings' and I began to try to find a place to sit, walking through the alley of other tired looking kids.

Kristen, to my pleasant surprise, was on this bus too, and I'd noticed her pretty quickly. But, she didn't notice me. She had her eyes shut, long eyelashes peeking out from them, leaning her head against the window. She had on a purple hoodie, with the hood up around her head, hiding her hair save for a few loose strands. I didn't need to think twice about sitting next to her, I scooted into the bench-like leather seat, seeing that she no longer wore a skirt either, just a regular pair of blue-jeans. Once I was seated, the bus driver got us moving and shut off the interior lights again, leaving my eyes to adjust to the dark.

Kristen smelled kinda good, almost like bubblegum, and I assumed she'd been chewing some. Her smell was shoved out of my nose by the stale smell of the gray leather seat.

I leaned my back against the seat to try to make myself comfortable. I held my camera bag in my lap, with my fairly new backpack between my legs on the floor. The rumbles and vibrations of the bus made it impossible to fall asleep, no matter how much I tried, so I gave up on that and sat in silence for several minutes. Well, I was silent, anyways. Nobody else was, there was a lot of talking going on.

In an attempt to entertain myself, I started to play with the zipper on my own hoodie, moving it up and down. I looked out of the window past Kristen, seeing the orange sun begin to peek itself over Seattle's moving skyline. I probably would've tried to take a picture, but I didn't want to wake her. Besides the flash, these cameras are fairly loud. It wouldn't have turned out any good, anyways.

The bus rounded a particularly tight corner, and Kristen started to fall over onto me. I pushed back a bit with my shoulder, stretching out one of my legs so that I didn't fall over either. This woke her up, and through the light, I could see her eyes open, half-lidded. She yawned and sat up straight, stretching herself and pulling her hood down, revealing her wavy hair, which she fluffed out with her hands.

I thought she was really pretty. Her widow's peak actually made the shape of her face somewhat like a heart, and she had fairly prominent cheekbones. Her jaw terminated in a pointer chin, and the sunlight almost made her hair appear reddish. She had freckles similar to mine.

I realized I'd been staring at her when she spoke, somewhat groggily, "Hey Max."

"Uh, hi Kristen."

She rubbed her eyes. "I didn't know you rode this bus."

"I didn't know _you_ rode this bus, but I'm glad you do."

She blinked some of the sleep away. "Same. For once there's actually somebody _cool_ I can talk to. Everybody else in here is obnoxious."

I had to slightly raise my voice to be heard over the rowdy conversations around us, "Yeah, seems like it. I can hardly hear myself think."

It was actually really loud in there. A lot of the other kids on the bus were trying to sleep, and some of the more inconsiderate ones were yelling their conversations, most of which were about fifty percent curse words. I guess the bus driver had given up on controlling it long ago. I was left wondering how Kristen was able to sleep through all of that.

A ray of dim sunlight shone on my legs, which captured her attention. "Hey… is that a camera bag?"

I looked down at it and back up at her. "Yeah, wanna see what's in it?"

She turned towards me and sat cross legged on the seat, hands in her lap. "Sure, I love cameras."

"That makes two of us." I undid the buttons on the bag and pulled out the camera, holding it where she could see it.

A shadow covered most of her face, and I couldn't see her expression. "Woah, is that what I think it is?"

I grinned, flipping up the flash. "Yep, a Polaroid instant camera."

"In yellow, niiice."

Her enthusiasm over my camera had caught me by surprise. "You're into these too?"

She rested her jaw against her palm. "A little bit. I actually own one of those folding SX-70 cameras."

"Okay, now I'm jealous."

She shrugged up one shoulder, letting her hand fall in her lap. "I never actually use it, to be honest. It just sits on a shelf collecting dust, and..." Kristen ran her hand through her hair. "Crap, there was something else I was gonna say, but I forgot."

She kept glancing out the window intermittently, shifting her positions as she did. She gasped in sudden remembrance. "Oh, _now_ I remember! I was gonna say that if you want that camera, I could give it to you."

"Really?"

The bus's front end turned to face the sun, allowing me to better see her face. "Of course."

She continued to squirm in the seat, restless. Before I could reply to her, she said, "Hey, sorry. I forgot to take my meds today, so… I'm kinda scattered right now."

I tilted my head, folding the flash back down. "You take meds?"

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah, I have ADHD. That's why I'm being so hyper. Sorry if I start annoying you…"

"Kristen, you're not-"  
"I'd like to— Oh, sorry."

I chuckled. "You're fine, go ahead."

She sheepishly smiled. "I'd like to get rid of that camera."

"Kristen, do you know how much money those are worth?"

She looked at me sideways. "A shitload, right?"

"Yeah, a shitload."

Her gaze moved to my camera bag. "Well, my mom gave it to me, and basically told me to do whatever I want with it. And… what I want to do with it, is give it to you."

I rubbed my collarbone through my shirt. "That's really… nice of you, actually."

She locked eyes with me, turning her head towards me and pushing her hair over her shoulder. "Well, I'm a really nice person, so… want it or not? It can just as easily stay sitting on that shelf… _forever."_

My shoulders sagged. "You're making this really hard for me, I just don't want to rob you of a nice camera."

She teased, "You're not robbing me. C'mon, you _know_ you want it."

I took a deep breath, buckling under my want of that camera. I grinned as I came to my decision. "Okay, I guess I'll take it off your hands. Thank you, it really means a lot to me."

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled. "No problem, Max." She continued. "So, tell me about yourself."

A strand of hair tickled my nose, and I moved it away. "Um, what's there to tell?"

Kristen stroked her chin. "T-tell you what, I'll start." She counted on her fingers. "I play the violin, my last name is Silva… my dad's from Portugal, uh… and I'm not from Seattle."

I took a moment to process all she'd said. "I… guess _I'll_ start by asking where you're from."

She smirked. "West Philadelphia, born and raised."

I giggled at her joke and went along with it. "You got in one little fight and your mom got scared?"

She snorted with laughter. " _Naaah,_ I'm actually from Colorado."

"Oh, cool! Where in Colorado?"

She gave a longing sigh. "Colorado Springs... You ever heard of Pike's Peak?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Well, I had a view of it from my bedroom window. There were a bunch of times where I would wake up, and it'd still be sunrise. Pike's Peak would be all orange, and there'd sometimes be hot air balloons in the sky; it was a pretty thing to wake up to."

I nodded, giving her my utmost attention. "It _does_ sound like a pretty thing to wake up to…"

She tilted her head, gazing up at the ceiling. "Don't get me wrong, Seattle is a fantastic city. But, Colorado will always have a special place in my heart, since I was born there."

It wasn't at all hard for me to empathize with her. "I feel the same way about where I'm from: Arcadia Bay, in Oregon."

Her head snapped towards me, lips parted and eyes wide. "Holy shit, I've _been_ there."

I jumped slightly, startled. "Whoa, really?"

Kristen's face lit up. "Yeah, my family went through there on the way up to Seattle. Cute little town."

"So... you saw the lighthouse and all of that?"

Light moved across her face, causing her to squint. "Yeah, and we ate at a really good diner. Can't remember the name of it."

"Two Whales?"

She ducked behind the seat in front of us, only just getting the light out of her eyes. "Yep, that one."

I ducked with her, as the light had moved to my face. "My friend, Chloe... her mom works there."

"Is her mom the uh... the nice blonde lady?" She made a gesture, like she was holding up a ponytail. "Had her hair up and stuff?"

There was only one nice blonde lady with her hair up that worked at the Two Whales, so it had to be Joyce.

"Yeah, sounds like her."

Her hand lowered. "Wow. Small frickin' world, huh?"

"Yeah… it's a small frickin' world."

* * *

 **CHLOE:**

I decided that I was ready to go back to school, or… as ready as I'd ever be.

 _THE FUTURE NEEDS EXCELLENCE._

Ah, Jeremiah Blackwell… the man responsible for the school I now went to. His shining bronze likeness stood over me, all smug on his pedestal as if to say, 'Look at me! I'm up here... you're down there, and you'll _never_ be on my level.'

Light gleamed off of the many shiny coins that sat on the bottom of the fountain, under a rippling layer of water. Graffiti and writing covered parts of the red brick, just your usual shit like somebody's initials, and the occasional scribble of profanity. Bird calls filled the air, sounding eerily similar to the ones in my nightmare.

I lost count of how many days I'd taken off of school, but it had to be at least ten. Things didn't seem any different, everybody around me went along with their business, like the busy bees they were.

But _I_ felt different.

My life had changed in the blink of an eye, and I needed to live with this change now. While it still hurt to think about my dad, I dealt with it a lot better, and I had one hell of a support system in Max. She was my shoulder to cry on, and I was hers.

Honestly, I was scared. There I stood in front of that fountain, at a prestigious boarding high school, surrounded by… assholes, to be frank.

In the short time I'd already attended Blackhell— as I was now calling it, I'd learned how much I clashed with the people there. I hadn't even been going there for a month and I already got into a bit of trouble.

When this girl Marisa wouldn't leave me alone, I messed with her Bunsen burner to get back at her… and it burned her hand— not that badly or anything, but it did burn her.

I knew I'd taken it a step too far as soon as she started to cry. Part of me felt satisfied, but mostly I felt really guilty. To make matters worse, other students tattled on me and I had to go to the office.

Which brings me to another point: Principal Wells. Oh, where do I even begin with this guy? I guess for starters, I'll say that he was a complete drunk. I could smell the liquor on him from across his desk, and while he acted sober then, I can only guess that he got his drink on once I'd left his office… with a demerit. I was amazed I didn't get suspended.

A demerit is basically a badge of shame, permanently scarring my record. One step closer to flushing my scholarship down the shitter.

I was getting the impression that I wasn't gonna have such an 'excellent' time there. But on the bright side, there was at least one decent person I'd befriended.

Eliot: a bit of an average Joe, but he seemed interested in me, which I guess was flattering. I just didn't know a whole lot about him.

I was staring at those coins in the fountain, all zoned out, when Eliot's voice snapped me out of it.

"Waste of coins, isn't it?"

I dipped my hand in the water and took a few, holding them in my open palm with water dripping from it. I turned to face him with a sly grin. "Nope. These are donations to the Chloe Price foundation."

He sat on the edge of the fountain, shaking his head in disapproval. "I'd probably put those back if I were you."

I waved my other hand in dismissal. "Ah, don't worry about it. Nobody will care."

"Principal Wells would."

"Fuck that guy."

He scratched beneath his chin, and his neck visibly moved as he swallowed. "Uh, I heard about what happened in your science class."

I clenched my fist tightly around the coins. "Can we not… _talk_ about that?"

Eliot nodded and gestured for me to sit on the fountain's edge. "Hey, I have something that'll make you feel better."

My hand jammed the wet coins into my pants pocket and sat beside him.

He unzipped his backpack and pulled out three small plastic bottles, putting them in my hands. "Here."

I held the bottles in my hands, with the clear liquid sloshing around in them. On the labels, were cartoony images of a halved lemon. "Woah, are these…-"

He completed my question. "Vodka shots."

I looked over my shoulders and hid them in my shirt, feeling the cold surfaces against my stomach. "Um… thanks?"

"Yeah, just… figured I'd give you those."

I furrowed my brows. "Where did you get them?"

"I got them from Rachel Amber… Don't say anything about it."

"Who the hell is that?"

He stood up. "Some girl— Hey, I gotta go. See you in Algebra."

My shoulders slumped as he walked off. "Y-yeah... see ya."

* * *

Fuckin' A… I can see why Principal Wells liked drinking so often.

There were two fuzzy Ms. Grants standing in the front of the room, and I couldn't tell which one to look at— not that it mattered, my eyes wouldn't really focus on either one. My entire body felt warm and fuzzy, and my mood was definitely improved.

Yeah… I drank the vodka all at once in the bathroom. Reckless as hell, I know, but fuck it. When life gives you lemon flavored vodka, you drink it. Made me throw up in my mouth, but I swallowed that shit back with a shudder. Must've been some strong shit, because I got more fucked up than I would have anticipated, and there was a lot more vodka in the bottles than there seemed to be.

Also, I guess Marisa wasn't in this same science class with me anymore, so… I win?

Ms. Grant's science class was probably my favorite one so far. We were in the chemistry phase at that point. Blackwell actually had a chemistry class on its own, but that was for later years, this class was just more general science.

Me and the other students were sitting at these black chest height lab tables that were bolted to the ground, with electrical outlets and gas hookups in them, on stools that made my ass fall asleep every single time. The tables were situated around the edges of the room. There was an open area in the middle, and that's where Ms. Grant stood, supervising us in our lab experiments.

Obviously, I'd missed what we'd been doing over the past week or so. I was lost, so I clumsily raised my hand once Ms. Grant was looking in my direction.

"Yes, Chloe."

Slurred words rolled off my dry tongue, "Muh… Ms. Grant, what're we doing? I wasn't… here."

She furrowed her brows in concern. "Are you okay?"

I rested my chin on the table, clearing my throat and noticing a few other kids staring at me. "Yeah yeah, I'm fine, just... tired."

Ms. Grant looked to her side. "Steph?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you mind partnering with Chloe?"

"I don't mind."

Ms. Grant said with an air of sympathy in her voice, looking back over at me. "Alright, she'll help get you caught up. I'll be back around shortly to answer your questions."

"Okay…" I slid my butt off of the stool and tried my hardest to walk over to Steph, who sat a few tables away. Eh, I guess I wasn't _that_ messed up, walking wasn't so hard. Steph gave me a strange look as I approached her— she knew something was up. I didn't really know her, I just knew that she was a bit of a geek, and that she liked tabletop games. Her straight brown hair fell just below her shoulders in an undercut, in which the side of her head was buzzed. She wore a black Nintendo 64 t-shirt and generic jeans.

Her blurry double figure melded into one as I scooted the stool back, sitting on it. We just stared at each other for a few seconds, until she said in a whisper, "Have you… been _drinking?"_

I snorted. "Heh, nooooo."

"I can smell it on you."

I flopped my hand around in what was supposed to be a wave of dismissal. "Yer nose is broken."

She shook her head and pushed an open notebook towards me. "Whatever, you record the data, _I'll_ handle the chemicals… oh, and put these on." She handed me a pair of safety goggles, which I fumbled to slip on my head, while she put on a pair of her own.

I tried to grab the pen sitting atop the notebook— I forgot how to hold a fucking pen. "Steph, bro, I don't even think I can _write_ … right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh come _on._ Are you really _that_ drunk?"

I shrugged.

"What did you even drink?"

"Some Lemony Snicket, fuckin'... vodka."

She narrowed her eyes at me, and held up her index finger in front of mine. "Hey, follow the tip of my finger with your eyes, without moving your head."

I strained to focus on it, pulling up my goggles as she moved her finger side to side; my head didn't stay still. She dropped her arm in her lap. "Damn, you _are_ that drunk."

She facepalmed. "Ugh, tell you what… I'll do all the work, I guess."

"Are..." I burped with a closed mouth, letting it out of my nose. "Are you sure?"

"Not really, but you're kinda 'out of commission' right now."

I blinked a few times. "Uh… sorry."

She turned towards the lab materials without a word and started to work; just like she said she would, she did all of it.

After science class ended, I puked in the bathroom— on the tile floor. I never did get caught…

* * *

A few months went by.

The first Christmas without my dad was a week away, but me and mom were trying to be as optimistic as possible about it. We'd still gone through our decorating procedure, without neglecting a single fucking thing.

Except this year, we used one of those fake trees instead of a real one— no need to clean up pine needles. My mom had left me to put ornaments on the tree, telling me she needed to go run a quick errand.

I was cool with it, sometimes it was nice to be alone for a little while. I dug through the box of ornaments, pulling out some that I'd made back in elementary school. For some reason, these embarrassed the hell outta me… so I didn't put them on the tree.

I found one Max had made for me a few Christmases ago. It was a small clay deer, with little white dots painted on its side and belly. It was actually very artfully done, I could tell she spent a lot of time on it. I hung the little dude up on the tree, thinking about the ornament I'd made her.

When I realized I couldn't remember what the ornament I'd made her was, it bummed me out a bit.

I was done with the ornaments, so I pushed the box aside and hit the switch. The tree flickered on, its multicolored lights reflecting off of the box TV several feet away.

It was steadily snowing outside, leaving a thin fluffy blanket of white on everything.

I looked through the sliding glass door, breathing on the glass and leaving a foggy spot, in which I scribbled nothing in particular before it faded away. I made it over to the kitchen, perusing through the cabinets for packets of powdered cocoa. I felt like making hot chocolate.

I was in luck, we had some. I dug out a pan from another cabinet and filled it with water to make enough for me and Mom. I started the boiling process on the stove and stood by, waiting for it to heat up.

After a few minutes of waiting, I heard the front door open, but it wasn't just my mom coming through the door. I heard a drawling male voice, saying something that made my mom laugh. I peeked around the corner of the kitchen wall and saw him: He had his black hair styled into a high and tight military haircut, and he had what I can only describe as a pedophile mustache. The immediate question that came to my mind was, ' _Who the fuck is that… and why is he in our house?'_

My mom stood beside him, and they both noticed me looking at them.

She gestured towards me. "Oh, this is my daughter, Chloe."

The man smiled and reached out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

I side stepped out from behind the wall and loosely shook his hand, while he firmly shook mine. Our hands released, and in a state of confusion I asked, "Uh, Mom... who is he?"

She gave an affectionate glance to him, before looking back at me. "David Madsen, I met him at the Two Whales."

I knitted my eyebrows, stabbing a finger at the floor with a bent arm. "Today?"

She shook her head. "No, about a month ago."

I hooked my thumbs into my pants pockets. "Mom, isn't it a little… soon?"

Her nostrils noticeably flared. " _Soon?_ "

David jerked his thumb towards the front door. "Sorry, should I go wait outside?"

"No, you're fine, David."

I crossed my arms. "Actually, I think he should."

She lowered her brows. "Chloe, he's our guest."

A guest that she seemed uncomfortably warm towards.

"No, he's _your_ guest."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't feel like arguing with you right now."

"Too _bad_ , Mom. Because, we're doin' it."

David started for the door. "Yeah, I'll just go wait out front."

My mom put her hand out in a failed attempt to stop him. "Wait, David." He disappeared as the door opened and shut.

She huffed and turned back towards me. "Fine, Chloe. Say what you need to say."

I tongued the inside of my cheek before saying, "It's hasn't even been three months since Dad died."

"Yes, I know."

"What I don't _get_ … is how you can move on so fast."

"I'm not 'moving on.'"

I threw out my arms to my sides. "Yet you bring home some other guy?"

"I have every right to do that."

My arms fell with a slap against my legs. "Yeah, but is it _right_ to do that?"

She let out a harsh breath. "Chloe, David's a good man."

I took a step forward, glaring at her. "Dad was a _great_ man."

Her eyes began to tear up. "I know, just… give David a chance, will ya?"

"Alright, _sure_ mom… I'll give your cheap-ass attempt at replacing Dad a chance…"

Her voice shook, "I'm not replacing anybody, Chloe. Is that what you think this is?"

I started to walk off. "Whatever, I'm done talking to you. Have fun with your new boy toy."

"No. Stay here."

…

"Chloe!"

I ignored her and stomped up the stairs into my room, slamming the door behind myself and locking it. I started digging through my closet, looking for heavier cold weather clothes to wear. Eventually, I found some: a thick jacket with fuzzy wool on the inside, which used to belong to my dad. It draped over me a few sizes too large, but it worked. I slipped another pair of pants on over the ones I already wore, and grabbed a dark blue beanie that sat on the shelves beside my closet, putting it on my head. Lastly, I put on a double layer of socks and slipped on a black pair of mom's boots that I was borrowing.

I crawled on my bed and opened the window above it, going out onto the roof. Biting wind and snow hit my face, so I pushed the jacket's collar upward. That David guy wasn't standing out front anymore, so I had a good chance to make a break for it; I slid the window shut and sat on the edge of the roof, before I jumped into a pile of snow.

It stung my ankles and my legs buckled on impact, leaving me to fall on my chest. I rolled in pain for a moment, blinking flecks of snow from my eyelashes. Nothing was broken, so I stood up and hobbled towards the sidewalk, following it due-east with no specific destination in mind. My limp rapidly improved as I continued to walk, icicles practically forming on my breath, which I could see with every exhale. My clothes were doing a good job of keeping me warm, and I kept my head down to shield my face from the flurry of snow I was walking into.

I walked for a quite a while, finding myself in another neighborhood. Not another soul was outside and all was quiet, except for the whooshing of wind past my head and my crunching footsteps. I recognized where I was; this neighborhood led into the woods— the same woods that contained Max and I's treehouse.

I still felt funny about that dream I'd had, with Dad being there and whatnot. But I knew that it was the only other place I could run to when I felt like it. And boy was I glad I left the house. Mom could deny it all she wanted to, but she was rebounding… trying to replace dad with some douchey looking asshole that frequented the diner. I could imagine them having a glass of wine in conversation, in our living room, about… well, stuff.

' _Oooh, Chloe's just having a hard time. She'll get over it.'_

 _He'd probably say something like: 'Hey, speaking of hard… wanna see what's in my pants?'_

The fact that she was willing to move on so soon disturbed the living hell outta me. This guy was probably exploiting her need of a shoulder to cry on, only to slip into her pants later on.

I thought mom knew better, but… maybe I didn't know my mom as well as I thought. Which would make sense, I guess. When Dad was still around, him and I had a bit of a closer relationship, and a silly one at that. Even on the worst days he could make me laugh. Meanwhile, my mom worked all day at the diner, only to come home at night. My dad worked too, but he had a bit of a staggered work schedule, so he regularly had time to watch over Max and I in our adventures. Because of this, I just didn't see my mom all that often.

The entrance to the woods stood over me like a mouth waiting to feed. Bare branches swayed in the wind, coated in more snow. From that point on, it was about a quarter mile walk to get to the treehouse. I walked through the snow, which never got past my ankles in depth.

In hindsight, what I was doing was _really_ fucking dangerous, because if I got lost, I was boned.

But I didn't get lost, and I made it to the clearing. Seeing that treehouse in the field of white brought a sigh of relief to me, and I closed the hundred yard distance between it and I. It looked just like it did in my dream, except for being a different season. Instead of vines wrapping themselves around the ladder, icicles stabbed out from the rungs. I started to climb, being careful not to let my feet slip on the ice. I made it onto the little patio and unlatched the door, yanking it open.

The temperature wasn't much different in there, but there was zero wind chill, so it sure felt warmer. Good thing my dad put insulation in there. I shut the door behind myself, and took in the sights of the small room. It reminded me of one of those cozy little log cabins. A small futon sat in one corner, facing a knee high table. The table had papers scattered all over it. I sat down on the futon and went through the papers, drawings and notes that Max and I left for each other.

I remembered making those, we had spent the night up there about a month before my dad passed away. Max was kinda scared for whatever reason, but she didn't want to admit it. I tried like hell to make her feel better, like cracking jokes, and my efforts somewhat worked, but she was still a bit iffy about being surrounded by pitch blackness fifteen feet off the ground. Even the lanterns we had didn't comfort her.

I thought I'd run out of ideas, until one came to mind. She was lying on that very futon, which was folded out to be a bed, and I just went and hugged her underneath the blanket. I remembered how she held her breath at first, but then released her breath in a pleasured sigh, scooting closer to me. _God,_ she was so warm. Eventually we both drifted off, but I can't remember who fell asleep first.

I woke up before her, though, with her face inches from mine, and I did what came to mind at the time.

I'd planted a kiss on her lips... and she had no clue.

* * *

(A/N: So yeah, pretty dialogue heavy chapter. When I initially wrote this chapter, there was actually a lot more, but I decided it was too much and cut it out. I'm still learning. I mean... shit, I've only been writing stuff for 2 months, give or take.)


	5. Mutuality

(A/N: I'd like to admit something: I'm having a bit of a tough time making Max and Chloe's narrations sound different from one another. I'm trying to fix it— but for now, sorry if they sound the same. At some point I'd like to get a cover image for this story, problem is I don't know how I'm even going to get one.

As you might be able to tell in this chapter, I took a bit of a minimalist approach with dialogue tags and beats as an experiment. I've been kinda busy trying to wrap up my senior year in high school (I graduate in two weeks), so I haven't been updating as frequently as I might've wanted to. Enjoy.)

(Oh, if there are any errors, I didn't notice them. That's the challenge of being the writer and editor at the same time.)

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Mutuality.  
**

* * *

 **CHLOE:  
**

A doe.

Staring right at me, not even ten feet away, standing in the snowy path that led out of the woods. It hardly moved a muscle, as its every breath became a visible vapor in the freezing air.

Me.

Staring right at it and hardly moving a muscle, only blinking once in a while. Holding my breath, staying still, trying not to scare it away.

It pinned its ears back, sniffing the air and checking me out; It took a dainty step forward.

And another… and another, and several more, until I could see the swirls in its fur, close enough to touch. Our eye contact never broke the entire time, staring each other down. Up close, I could see how young it really was. If I had to guess, it had only _just_ lost its spots.

It had waded through the fluffy snow, leaving small hoofprints behind it. It fluttered its long eyelashes at me, drawing my attention to its eyes, on which were tiny reflections of myself.

Snowflakes no longer fell, even though only a few hours had passed. The sun's rays of light seeped through the heavy clouds in the sky above, radiating its dull warmth across my back. Shakily breathing in astonishment, I pulled a hand out of my coat pocket and slowly reached out to the deer; it let me. Its fur was fuzzy and warm against my cold, quivering hand.

My heart briefly fluttered in my chest, and I let out a sigh of amazement. Everything was quiet, only the sound of the wind filled the area.

It responded by taking one more step forward, gently nuzzling my stomach with its nose. More warmth spread throughout my body — but not from the sun, which was beginning to melt the snow. I couldn't believe what was happening. This animal was supposed to be afraid of people, why was it acting so… weird?

If Max were there, she'd probably be excited out of her mind. Deer were her favorite animals, and she strongly opposed hunting them. She absolutely refused to shoot a gun, especially at an animal. But she'd probably take a shot with her camera, since this was one _hell_ of a photo opportunity.

Its fur against the flesh of my hands was comforting, enough to make me forget about my worries for a little while. Home was where I'd been headed. In spite of being mad at my Mom, I just wanted to go home at that point. I guess sitting alone in a treehouse will do that to you.

That deer was in my way, but I wasn't complaining. Highlight of my day, right there.

Speaking of day, it was kinda starting to get dark, and I didn't want to get stuck out there. But hey, at least I wouldn't be alone, right? The deer would still be there.

I spent a good long while petting it, running my hands along its back, feeling its lungs expand and contract as it took in the cold air. As fucking _amazing_ as this was, I really needed to start heading home.

I warmly smiled, giving the doe one last rub. "Sorry, buddy, I gotta go home now."

It looked up at me again, blinking its eyes in innocent cluelessness. With that, I stuffed my hands back into my jacket pockets and started walking through the thinning snow, stepping around the deer and over a fallen branch.

It followed me. Of course it would, being the world's friendliest deer. When I noticed it was tailing me, I couldn't help but laugh. "Hey… Bambi, as much as I'd like to, I can't bring you-"

" _Chloe!_ Oh, thank god!"

My heart skipped a beat and I froze in my tracks.

The deer bolted off at the sound of my Mom's voice. She ran to me and put her hands on my shoulders, looking me over in the way a doctor examines a patient. Officer Berry followed behind her, but kept his distance. They both wore thick coats, Berry wore some sort of police issue one.

Mom asked through her panting, "Honey, you had me worried _sick._ Are you okay? It's freezin' out here."

I gently shook her gloved hands off of me, avoiding eye contact with her. "Mom, I'm okay. I just…" I looked in the direction the deer ran towards, through the trees.

"Look at me, Chloe." I did. "I was looking everywhere for you."

"How did you find me?"

"Motherly intuition— don't you ever do that again, you hear me?"

I shivered, but not from the cold. " _God,_ Mom… I'm _so_ sorry."

Her eyes welled up. "It's okay, hon… it's okay…"

I caught her in a hug, chin on her shoulder. Her hand held the back of my head, while her other arm had wrapped around me. I could faintly smell the perfume she wore, smelling like some kinds of flowers. I glanced towards Officer Berry, who was also looking in the direction the deer ran, but he didn't seem to be weirded out by anything.

Eventually, I had to let go of my Mom— a gesture she hesitantly returned.

I scanned the ground, trying to find the hoofprints the deer had left. They were gone, like they'd never been there. My breath escaped me as I grew increasingly confused. It was fucking weird, like that deer erased itself from existence. I briefly started to wonder if I was losing it.

When she noticed me looking around, she asked in a hushed voice, "Are you looking for something?"

I cleared my throat and scratched beneath my beanie, looking back over at her. "I saw a deer, and it was letting me touch it."

"Letting you _touch_ it?"

I realized how bummed out I was, now that it was gone. "Yeah, it just… left."

She grinned. "Well, if that ain't the _coolest_ thing I've ever heard…"

Officer Berry spoke, taking a few steps towards us. "I should get you two back home, before we become icicles out here."

Mom agreed, putting her jacketed arm around my back. "Good idea. Let's go, Chloe." I sighed and let her lead me out of the woods, following Officer Berry back to his police SUV.

That encounter with the deer reminded me of how much I needed another pet.

* * *

Mom started up the fireplace, while I sipped the mug of steaming hot cocoa I'd finally gotten around to making. My stomach was full of leftover meatloaf my Mom had made the day before. _Damn,_ was I hungry. I'd hardly stopped to breathe through my eating.

Atop the fireplace on the mantle, sat the snow globe that contained a deer. Orange flickering light lit the dark living room, reflecting off of the sliding glass doors, beyond which was more darkness.

It was pretty late; I'd spent the evening watching _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ for the billionth time. David Madsen had gone home a while ago, I guess.

Good.

The flame licked at the sides of the logs, crackling and permeating the air with the pleasant smell of wood smoke. Mom sat beside me on the couch, our backs to the fire, which filled the room with warmth.

"Okay, Chloe." She rubbed her tired eyes. "I know you hate doing this, but we need to talk, darlin'."

Another sip of hot cocoa went down my throat, hitting the spot. I put the mug down on the coffee table in front of us. "Mom, that David guy… I don't have a good feeling about him."

"What makes you say that?"

"He's not Dad."

Mom sighed, pulling the hair tie out of her hair. "No, he isn't."

Speaking of Dad, I was wearing one of his old shirts, which was way too big on me. It still smelled like the cologne he used to wear— _probably_ because I'd sprayed myself with it. Matter of fact, I was spraying it on myself every day just to carry a piece of him with me.

I didn't give a fuck if I smelled like a dude.

She took a sip of her own hot chocolate. "I've been thinkin' about what you said to me earlier, about me moving on too fast."

I hung my head, scratching the back of my neck, hearing quiet murmuring from the tv in front of us.

She continued, "I think you were right… I didn't really appreciate the _attitude,_ but you were right."

I sat up straight and gawked at her, surprised at what I was hearing. "Wait, what?"

"I'm rushing things with David, I realize that now."

"M-mom, 'rushing' is an understatement..."

She looked down at the steaming chocolatey liquid in her mug, holding it with both hands. "Reckon you're right again…" She sighed and put the mug down on the table, looking over at me. "Listen, nobody is _ever_ going to replace your father. I know you're worryin' about that. But… sometimes we need to make room for other people in our lives. I heard somewhere, that we meet around 80,000 people in our lifetimes..."

I picked up my mug and took the last sip of it. The sweet taste of sugar and chocolate at the bottom coated my tongue.

"...How can we expect to be happy if we don't let a few of 'em in?"

A bell went off in my head. I knew why she was interested in David now, it's because she was desperately trying to fill a painful hole in her heart. For once in many years, she was _manless,_ and she pined for that feeling of being with a loving man.

"I guess we _wouldn't_ be happy, would we?" I asked.

She nodded. "I can't really justify wanting to meet other men so soon after your father's passing. I guess, all I can say is… I just don't want to be alone."

"Mom, you're not alone. I'm here."

"I know, sweet pea, but what about after you move out? Get a life of your own?"

"Just because I'm going to leave the nest one day, doesn't mean I'm going to leave you forever."

She smiled. "That's good to hear, Chloe. You'll always be my baby girl."

I grinned through a yawn, and my eyes watered from it. I suddenly realized just how fucking _tired_ I was. Mom noticed it too.

She gently slapped my back. "Well, you best be gettin' to bed. I'm fixin' to crash out myself, just need to let the fire die down."

I slowly stood up and stretched, taking my mug to the kitchen. I put it in the sink, barely seeing with the light from the dying fire. Mom went to the fireplace and poked at the smouldering logs with a fire iron.

She said from in front of the fireplace, "You know I love you, Chloe."

"I love you too, Mom."

I turned in her direction, flicking on the light in the kitchen as I did. "Hey, I'm sorry about running away, and all of that."

She finished with the fire - which was growing dimmer - and came to stand right in front of me. "It's perfectly fine, it's what I signed up for when I decided to be a mother."

She embraced me in a hug, and I reciprocated it.

"About David… you're gonna keep seeing him, aren't you?"

She ran a hand slowly up and down between my shoulder blades. "Yes, but I'll try not to rush things. He's genuinely a good man, and I hope you two can get along."

I could feel my chest vibrate against hers when I spoke. "We'll see about it. I don't really know him, so…"

"I'm still gettin' to know him myself. He's been through a lot."

"Well, whatever makes you happy. I just want you to promise that even if you two fall in love, that you'll never forget about Dad."

"I couldn't forget about him even if I tried."

I went straight to bed after that and had a dreamless night, for once.

* * *

 **MAX:**

"Hey, Max, it's Chloe. I tried to call but you didn't answer, so I figured I'd leave a message. Call me back when you get this… Okay, bye."

' _Crap, just missed her.'_

I had checked my new flip phone after I got out of the shower, as it sat on the desk in my room. It was a bit of an early Christmas gift, Chloe had apparently gotten one just like it. I dried myself off, as I still shivered from the change of hot water to cool air.

Things were going great between her and I, and she was doing much better about her Dad. I didn't really want to take credit for it, but I was definitely the glue that had held her together, even if I was all the way in Seattle.

From the stuff she told me, it sounded like she had changed a little bit. She was still the same Chloe I knew, but her music taste was way different now. I guess she'd gotten into something called thrash metal. The name is self explanatory, you _thrash_ to it.

She told me about a bunch of bands that she was really interested in. There were so many that I'd never be able to remember the names, but I know one of the bands was called Exodus.

I'd tried to listen to some of their stuff on the Internet, just out of curiosity, and I couldn't really follow it. I could see why Chloe liked it though, it suited her personality so well… bold and energetic.

I kinda took her for somebody that would listen to punk rock or something, but I guess not. Her skater friend, Justin, was influencing her music tastes. She told me they would skateboard together and he'd be playing metal music, and she liked it.

I mean, she liked it enough to steal a cd from a record store. That was a surprise to me, it was kinda unlike her. I knew she was mischievous and a bit rebellious, but not _break the law_ rebellious.

I dried myself off some more and threw on the most comfortable pajamas I owned. My room was completely set up the way I wanted it, no more boxes or mess, except for a pile of dirty clothes in the corner.

I'd started to make what I called the "Max Caulfield Photo Memorial Wall," which consisted of my favorite pictures. A lot of them were of me and Chloe, and half of them were pirate related. I'd set up the photo wall right beside my bed, so I could look up at it when I laid there.

For being two days away from Christmas, the weather didn't feel all that wintery. It was raining outside - not very hard, but hard enough to audibly patter against the window by my desk.

I sat down at the desk and flicked on the desk lamp, letting some more light into the dim room. I gently pushed aside my journal, which had a half finished entry inside of it.

I flipped my phone open and returned her call. The deep dial tone sounded in my ear repeatedly, as I got more and more excited for Chloe to answer.

She answered after a few rings; I spoke first. "Hi, I got your message."

"Hey, Maxamil. Merry almost Christmas!"

"Merry almost Christmas to you too, Chloe. Did you get the present I sent you yet?"

"Yep, got it under the tree. Did you get the one _I_ sent you?"

I stretched out my legs underneath the desk, briefly cracking my toes. "Uh huh, I'm waiting until Christmas to open it."

"Nice, you're gonna love it."

"Oh hey, so I talked to my parents about visiting you in Arcadia," I tried to hold back the sound of disappointment in my voice, "and they said they probably wouldn't be able to afford it."

She did _not_ try to hide her disappointment, " _Dammit_ …"

"Yeah, sorry."

She sighed. "I'll talk to my Mom and see if I can convince her to let me visit you over the summer."

"Would she able to afford that?"

"No idea, honestly. If she could, she'd only be able to pay for one plane ticket."

I switched phone holding hands, switching ears as well. "So, you'll fly alone?"

"Yeah, but I'm old enough. Don't worry, I'll be there even if I have to start mowing lawns or something."

"I don't really wanna put you through that trouble," I said, feeling guilty for potentially burdening her.

"It isn't trouble, dude. I would sacrifice all of my time if it meant I'd get to see you."

"I would sacrifice my time too, Chloe. But I mean, are you sure you want to visit _me?_ 'Cause _I_ can try to mow lawns, too…"

She quickly shot down that idea. "Nah, it's cool. It'd be nice to get out of here for a while and see a new place, ya know?"

I flicked off the desk lamp, taking in the ambience of rain outside my window. "You'd really like it here. Seattle is practically made for you."

"All the more reason to go. As if I needed anymore of a reason than _you."_

Warm fuzziness spread through my cheeks. "Awww, you're making me blush."

Her tone changed from upbeat to almost somber in the blink of an eye. "Hey, Max… there's something I've been needing to tell you for a while. I've been holding back because I don't know how you'll react. Um…"

"Chloe, it's okay. You can tell me. I'm not gonna react in a bad way, whatever it is."

I could hear her take a deep breath. "Remember how we spent the night in the treehouse a while back?"

I sat up straight. "Uh-huh?"

"Uh, when… when you were asleep, I _maaaay_ have kissed you, just a little bit."

My jaw fell open and I was completely speechless. At the same time, butterflies in my stomach took flight.

"You know what? This was dumb, I-I shouldn't have said anything."

" _Wait_ , Chloe. I'm glad you said it, for cereal."

"You are?"

I gulped and stood up, slowly pacing around the room. My heart pounded really fast. "There's something I should tell you, too…" For a few seconds I just let the nervous words form on my tongue. "I have a crush on you…"

' _Holy shit, I actually said it.'_ I bit my lip in quiet anticipation.

"Me too, Max. I really like you a _lot_. I just think you're _really_ adorable... and _kissable._ "

I sighed in relief, giddy with excitement over the direction our conversation was taking. I nervously chuckled. "I guess I owe _you_ a kiss the next time I see you."

"Damn right you do."

* * *

The present she'd sent me was William's old camera, complete with a few packs of unused film. I called her after I opened it and she justified sending it to me, saying her Dad would be pissed if she never used it, but she knew _I'd_ use it.

I put it on the shelf in my room, next to the camera Kristen gave me and the one I had before.

Chloe and I's phone conversations started to get a bit flirtier after a little while, and I couldn't be happier.

* * *

Christmas break ended and a brand new year stretched ahead of me: 2009.

I'd been back in school for a few days then, and I met Fernando in the courtyard pickup area outside of the school, after it was time to go home. The weather was actually pretty nice that day: not too hot, not too cold, and sunny. Other kids of various heights and sizes walked all around me in a crowd.

I walked in the same direction everybody else was going: out through the double door exit.

On the courtyard sat a few wooden benches, staggered from the ones on the opposite sides going all the way up from the entrance. Fernando sat alone on one of them, twiddling his thumbs and looking around. As I approached he smiled and waved, as did I, sitting down beside him.

He had on some sort of black leather jacket, wearing a black band shirt underneath it, with tattered blue jeans and skater shoes. An interesting thing about him was that he liked punk rock.

Despite his taste in aggressive music, he had to be the most mellow person I'd ever met, and while I had my heart set on Chloe, I had to admit that he was kinda cute. He had these really long eyelashes that were complimented by an interesting eye color.

Technically, his eyes were light brown, but especially in the sun it was possible to see green rings around the edges of his irises. His skin was more on the tan side, and his face had a very nice shape to it, with a slight dimple on his chin. He was a tiny bit chubby, but nobody's perfect, right?

I wanted to ask him something, and him specifically. Not that I didn't trust Kristen to help, because I _really_ did, but Fernando knew more about what I wanted to ask than she did.

I took a deep, nervous breath. "Fernando, can I ask for your help?"

"Sure, Max."

"I have a crush on somebody, and they like me back…"

He grinned from ear to ear. "Right on! Who's the lucky guy?"

I gulped. "Uh, that's the thing… it's a _she_."

He spoke through his accent, one I now knew was Puerto Rican in origin. "A she, huh? You said she likes you back, so... What's the problem, then?"

I bounced my leg. "The problem… is that I've never liked a girl before."

"Oh, gotcha. Pretty weird feeling, huh? Realizing you're not as straight as a telephone pole?"

I grinned. "Sure is. I figured you'd be able to help me more than anyone else, because…" I struggled to find the right words to use.

He chuckled. "Because I'm gay? Alright, now I see why you didn't go to Kristen with this. She wouldn't be able to help you, probably."

"But you _can,_ right?"

"I can and I _will._ So, are you asking me how to date the girl you're interested in?"

I shook my head. "No, I've pretty much got a date lined up with her _._ What I'm worried about is possibly coming out to my parents, if her and I become a thing."

He ran a hand through his buzz cut, dark brown hair. "You know, judging from the stuff you've told me about your parents, they sound really nice and open-minded. Honestly, if I were you, I wouldn't be worried. I'm sure your parents are going to be perfectly okay with it."

I sighed with relief. "You're probably right, I shouldn't be so scared."

"Hey, I will let you in on a bit of secret. You know how my parents don't get along with me?"

"Yeah?"

"Pues— er, well, the whole reason why is because they're really conservative. They were always talking about how they wanted me to bring a nice girl home, but when I brought a nice _guy_ home, they freaked out. I was holding his hand, and that's what gave it away for them."

"Oh... I'm _really_ sorry," I said, injecting as much sympathy as possible into it.

"It's not your fault. It's their loss, really. I can still remember what they told me: _Si vas a ser un mamahuevo, no vamos a ser tus padres…_ that basically means: If you're gonna be a cocksucker, we're not gonna be your parents."

My voice shook with outrage, " _What?_ I can't believe your own parents would _say_ something like that to you."

He wiped his eyes with his palms and sniffled. "Oh well. Fuck them, I hate them, and I never want to see them again. Anyways, the point I was trying to make was: Your parents cannot _possibly_ react as poorly as mine did."

"Wowser, thank you for sharing that with me," I breathily said.

"Of course. You're a good friend, Max."

"You too, Fernando."

We exchanged smiles.

"So, who's the lucky _girl?"_

I fluttered my lips. "My childhood best friend, Chloe. You might have a chance to meet her, she's probably gonna visit me over the summer."

"Oh yeah, you've told me about her. I would love to meet her. I'm sure Kristen would too."

"Maybe… we can all get together and do stuff?"

"Hell yeah, we can show her around."

Fernando and I talked for a little while longer until my Mom picked me up.

* * *

I'd been home for a little while, and my parents were watching tv in the living room, sitting on the couch next to each other. Anxious thoughts swirled around in my head for most of that evening - thoughts of coming out to my parents.

I walked into the living room, standing behind the couch. On the wall behind the tv, were our framed family pictures.

With a little bit of newfound confidence, thanks largely in part to Fernando, I decided I was gonna tell my parents how I felt about Chloe.

I was still _really_ nervous, though. My heart pounded and my hands were shaking.

"Mom… Dad? Can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, honey. What's up?" Dad answered and paused the dvr'ed tv show they were watching, and they both turned to look at me.

"You know how me and Chloe have known each other for a really long time?"

"Why, of course. You two have known each other since you were knee high." He replied again.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I opened them again. "And… you know how good of friends we are, right?"

"Mhm?" Mom hummed.

"Wh… what if I told you that…" I gulped. "That… I wanted to be more than friends with her?"

They briefly glanced at each other, bearing smiles on their faces.

"We would tell you that we saw it coming," Dad answered with a slight chuckle.

"You… _what?_ "

"Maxine, it's fairly obvious."

"How is it obvious?" I gawked at both of them.

Mom said, "It's obvious in the way you look and act around her. Sweetheart, us adults —Joyce and William included— have practically known since the day you met that you two would be inseparable. Chloe is your _soulmate,_ we're sure of it."

When I was younger, I wouldn't have understood what they were going on about, but it made sense now.

Chloe, who'd carried me home when I twisted my ankle, who'd stayed up with me all night to draw and create stories, who was able to make me laugh and smile like nobody else could. She was the only person able to get me to come out of my shell, she really _was_ my soulmate.

"So then it's true, it _has_ to be… I'm in love with Chloe."

"Good news for you, Zina. The same way you look and act around her, is the same way she looks and acts around you… you're _both_ in love." Dad replied.

Zina was a nickname they used for me from time to time. Maxine, Max, Zina, Zeenie, so on and so forth.

"You really think so?"

He continued, "Yes, behind that mischievous glint in her eyes is a whole lotta love for you. The relationship you have with her is very special, it's rare to be that close to somebody."

'Close' is an understatement. As Joyce would say, we were, 'Two peas in a pod.'

"Remember how I asked if I could visit her?"

"Of course, darling. We're sorry that we can't afford it right now, but in the future we can," Mom said with regret in her voice.

"Actually, you might not _have_ to afford it, because she's gonna try to visit _us_ up here."

Her face lit up. "Well, that would be wonderful! Would Joyce come?"

"I think it'd just be Chloe."

They both loved Joyce's company, and they loved Chloe as if she were their second daughter. Despite the disappointment at Joyce apparently not being able to come, they were no less enthusiastic.

"We can arrange something with Joyce, so that if Chloe does visit, she can stay at our house." Dad suggested.

I said, "It isn't really a question of if, but _when_ she visits, because she's coming for sure."

Mom smiled from ear to ear. "It'd be great to see you two together again."

"Mom, mark my words. Me and Chloe are gonna be together forever."


	6. The Troll (1 of 2)

**A/N: As you may notice right off the bat, I switched to third person POV. I realize it's probably a** _ **big**_ **no-no to do that, but I like this kind of POV better and I think it'll make the story better too. This is going to be a two part chapter. It's also going to be the most Pricefield chapter I've written so far. Part 2 coming within the next couple of days. Sorry about the wait…** _ **again.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Troll (1/2)  
**

* * *

 **CHLOE:**

Chloe could see nothing but fluffy orange clouds through the tiny square window. The further the clouds got from the rising sun, the whiter they became. Nighttime completely evaporated as she sat in a passenger plane, unable to stop her racing thoughts from nearly spiraling out of control.

There was no doubt about it. Max and Chloe loved each other, so much so that they were willing to admit their feelings in a moment of mutual impulsiveness. But it seemed it wasn't gonna be so easy. Beyond their initial confessions and flirtation towards each other, it never really went further than that. Chloe failed to find a reason why. All she could do was speculate.

The only conclusion she could come to was that the distance between them made it difficult to make any further moves, like being too far away from a chess piece to reach it.

But now Chloe was _closing_ that distance.

The entire prospect was terrifying. What does one do when they're crushing on their far away best friend, and make the discovery that the feeling is shared?

All of this thought tired her to the point her eyelids couldn't stay open. It didn't help the fact that it was an early flight and that she had to wake up even earlier to make it to Portland on time, accounting for breakfast and other preparations. Joyce handled the breakfast and the driving, of course. One could argue that she was twice as spent as her daughter.

But Joyce had the house to herself now, and could sleep undisturbed.

Chloe shut her eyes and fell asleep to the subtle vibrations of the plane. Thankfully, she didn't have to share a row with anybody.

It had been her 15th birthday not even a week before and as expected, she received a multitude of gifts - including a very sweet card from Max, which contained a bit of money. Chloe didn't tell Max what she wanted, because she honestly didn't know.

It was also spring break. Initially, Chloe planned to visit over the summer but when the opportunity arose, she pounced on it.

This, she felt, was a well needed but probably ill-deserved getaway. Her grades had officially gone down the shitter - from straight A's to borderline failing. She had become disillusioned with what Blackwell had to offer and just stopped trying.

Joyce became very worried about her daughter's grades and scheduled appointments with the school guidance counselor. Chloe loathed every moment of it, from being treated like a child, to having to do tedious writing activities. When they tried to make her write about William, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. She refused to cooperate any further.

It caused her to have a crying fit in the counselor's office… _some_ counselor, huh? Needless to say, she was left alone after that.

Well, left alone by all but one person.

David Madsen, the increasingly pervasive boyfriend of her Mom's, who didn't get along so well with Chloe.

As it turned out, David was unemployed, living off the disability check he got for his injuries and emotional trauma in the Army. Chloe actually respected his service - but the respect stopped there.

He was worming his way into her life more and more, trying to control every aspect of it as if Chloe were another one of his soldiers. Or at least she saw it this way.

David Madsen _did_ try to make her stand at attention for back-talking him, though, which only warranted some stronger words from Chloe. So perhaps her way of perceiving things was not far from the truth.

Chloe's nap was brief. A flight announcement stirred her out of her sleep.

" _Attention passengers: We are beginning our initial descent, please remain seated and be sure your seatbelts are properly buckled. Thank you for flying with Air America."_

The seatbelt lights came on with a 'boop' sound, and she pulled hers taut, ears popping from the changes in altitude.

The landing was smooth.

* * *

Chloe's luggage was so damn _heavy_ , stuffed full of every article of clothing she couldn't bear _not_ to bring. Her wardrobe evolved alongside her changing music taste, going from cutesy shirts to thrash and death metal shirts. She'd also gone through the trouble of intentionally putting holes in almost every pair of jeans she owned, and how could she forget her beanie? The one that just so happened to be on her head right then.

She was definitely getting more involved with the metal scene, and she'd be _damned_ if she ever cut her hair short.

She walked around, lost. All she had to do was find Max and her family. Didn't seem that easy when a fluid crowd moved around her, making it difficult to find _anybody_. Max hadn't responded to any of Chloe's texts yet.

The luggage didn't have any wheels, they'd broken off somehow. She struggled to carry it with her skinny arms, as her muscles became increasingly sore. An escalator to a lower level was a welcome relief as she boarded it, allowing the luggage to sit on the steps while she shook out her arms.

As the escalator descended, Chloe could make out a group of people holding signs, standing behind some sort of railing. One of the signs immediately caught her attention.

CHOLE

She did a double take and found the sign _did_ in fact say CHOLE on it, beginning to laugh when she saw who was holding it: Max Caulfield, sporting a cheesy grin, parents by her side.

Refreshingly, Max was still a smartass.

Chloe skipped down the last few steps of the escalator, carrying her luggage above the ground; it felt slightly lighter than before.

In what felt like an instant, she stood before the shorter girl and her parents. Max was the same as she'd always been: small, shy, unassuming… and still cute as hell.

' _Damn, I must look really different to her. She's probably all like, 'Whoa, who are you and what did you do with Chloe?''_

Chloe tried to make as straight a face as possible, but still smiled. " _Chole_ , huh?"

Max dropped the white cardboard sign and hugged her over the waist high railing, catching her by surprise.

Chloe chuckled - noticing how Max stood on her tiptoes, and fully embraced her best friend. "Damn, _somebody's_ glad to see me."

Max chirped, hugging her tighter. "Seriously glad."

"Glad to see you too, Max. Glad to _hug_ you, also." She glanced past Max's hair and saw her parents standing together, smiling at the tender moment in front of them. Lifting a hand from Max's back, she waved at them with another warm smile on her face. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield."

Ryan spoke first, quickly followed by Vanessa.

"Hey there, Chloe."

"Hiya, sweetheart."

Max let go of Chloe and the group continued to exchange warm greetings and hugs between themselves. Chloe was nearing a mushiness overload, but her current elation distracted her from it.

Ryan ended up carrying Chloe's luggage. To him, it took little effort.

Max and Chloe held hands on the way to the car.

* * *

The restaurant had a nautical vibe to it: seafood. _Damn_ good seafood, at that. Its smell filled the crowded dining establishment.

They'd gone out for an afternoon "dinner" after Chloe was introduced to the Caulfield residence, leaving her luggage in Max's room. The sleeping situation was already figured out: a shared bed.

'Cause why the hell not?

"So, how's Joyce been doing?" Asked Ryan from the other end of the table, dabbing a napkin on his shirt where he'd stained it with dropped cocktail sauce.

"Mmm," Chloe hummed, swallowing the grilled salmon in her mouth. "Pretty good, she's been really busy with waitressing."

' _She's also been really busy with Sergeant Shithead...'_

He nodded. "Joyce is a true hard worker, wish I could say the same for myself." A titter and another forkful of food escaped and entered his mouth simultaneously.

Chloe wished she could say the same for _herself_.

They sat at that table arranged as one would expect: Vanessa sat beside Ryan and Max sat beside Chloe.

Vanessa poked Ryan in the side with her finger, smirking. "But you _do_ work hard… at slacking off."

He smiled, slightly showing his teeth, shaking his head and continuing to eat.

The Caulfields weren't the most talkative bunch and in a strange way, Chloe liked that about them, because it meant whatever they did say was usually a well thought out remark.

Max was happily enjoying her own food, delicately taking her time to eat it.

"So… how's the lobster?" Chloe asked her in an attempt to conversate, while Ryan and Vanessa talked amongst themselves.

"Lobstery… _very_ lobstery." She tore a chunk of lobster flesh from a claw and held it to Chloe between her fingers.

Slightly hesitating, Chloe took it using her mouth and with relief, found that Max had intended for her to.

She chewed it and swallowed. "Hmm, look where _livin' like Larry_ got him."

Max giggled and resumed eating, affectionately eying Chloe once in a while, while the taller girl continued to eat.

Finishing her food some time later, Chloe set her fork on the plate. "So, what's there to do in Seattle together?"

Her smaller best friend took a sip of her soft drink. " _Sooo_ many things. But as a start, we could maybe go to the Fremont neighborhood? Buncha quirky stuff over there."

"Quirky? Like what?"

"One word: Hipster."

"Heh, alright. But you gotta give me more to go on than that." Chloe took a sip of her own drink.

Max tapped her fingers on the table. "You… you know Vladimir Lenin, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, there's a statue of him in… in… " She trailed off, staring ahead, white as a ghost.

' _What the fuck?'_

Chloe furrowed her eyebrows, concerned by Max's sudden change in demeanor. "Yo… Max? You alright?"

Her breathing went shallow, eyes wide with fear. "I-I need to get out of here."

"Dude, what the hell is going on?"

Max got up from her seat and addressed her parents with a shaky voice, "I'm going to the bathroom, b-be right back…"

Ryan and Vanessa noticed the anxiety in their daughter but before they could ask her anything, she walked away, running her hands through her hair - in the complete opposite direction of the bathroom, out through the front door of the restaurant.

They both began to get up, but Chloe stopped them, holding a hand out and standing up. "Hey, I'll go talk to her. Just… stay."

She rushed out the door and found Max sitting on the steps leading to the entrance, arms crossed against her stomach with a bowed head. Chloe's heart sank at Max's appearance, sitting beside her while the smaller girl took deep breaths. The cool wind made the situation feel _that_ much more unsettling.

"Max… talk to me."

She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just… I saw somebody."

"Who?"

"It's not important."

"Not _important?_ Then why the hell are…" Chloe stopped herself and reworded what she was saying. "I mean… why does seeing somebody make you freak like this?"

"A girl's bullying me, okay?" She mumbled, reopening her eyes.

Chloe's mouth fell open and closed a few times, before she was able to say, "You- you haven't told me about this... why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Max, you said you're being _bullied._ I can't sit by and let that happen to you. Tell me who she is and what she looks like. _Now."_

Her voice cracked as tears came closer to escaping, "Please, just drop it. I'm begging you."

Chloe snorted, standing up. "Fuck it. I'll find her myself, whether you tell me what she looks like or not."

Max shot up to her feet, raising her voice and balling her fists. "Chloe, _stop!"_

Her tone softened, grabbing both of Chloe's wrists. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this. I just thought I could handle it alone." She sighed. "Look how _that_ turned out."

"Then _please_ let me help you. Show me who it is."

She let go of Chloe's wrists, pressing her lips together and walking to the entrance; Chloe followed, preparing herself for a confrontation with… she didn't even know who yet.

Chloe opened the door for Max, asking, "What's this fucker's name?"

"Emma."

The door closed behind them and Max pointed towards a girl sitting at a table, with who was _assumably_ her grey-haired father. "That's her right there, the redheaded girl."

Chloe cracked her neck, steeliness in her voice, "Be right back."

She approached, going through a plan in her head.

' _She's with her dad. Maybe I can get her in trouble if I bring up the fact she's a bully… if her dad doesn't already know.'_

Using the fakest, most polite voice she could, Chloe asked, "Excuse me, Sir, are you Emma's father?"

He looked up. "Yes, I am."

"Are you aware your daughter has been bullying my best friend?" Chloe shot a fiery glance at Emma.

She crossed her arms, all but growling out, "Who are you and what are are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Max Caulfield. You go to her school, right?"

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Dad, can you tell this chick to go away?"

He held up his hand. "Wait, Emma. Is this true?"

"No! I don't know what she's talking about!"

Chloe interjected, "Yes, it's true, and I'd like her to stop f…" She swallowed and held back the barrage of curse words. "To stop."

He narrowed his eyes at Emma. " _Now_ I know what those calls from your school are about. You're in serious trouble, young lady."

Not knowing what calls he was referring to, Chloe kept her mouth shut, grinning ever so slightly.

Emma mouthed towards Chloe, "You are _so_ dead."

Chloe sneered. "Say that louder."

The other girl slammed her fists on the table. "You are so dead!"

The restaurant went quiet.

Her dad widened his eyes in shock at her behavior. "Emma, wait 'til your mother hears about this." He turned to Chloe. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

' _Fuck yeah, I did it.'_

She walked with a smug grin towards Max, who was biting her nails some distance away.

"So… how'd it go?"

"She's in trouble with her dad." Chloe glanced back towards Emma's table, seeing her dad was scolding her.

Fear crossed Max's face. "C-Chloe… she's just gonna take it out on me."

"Not if I have anything to do with it. Does anybody else know you're being bullied?"

She shook her head. "Nobody except you and my friend, Kristen."

"Can I meet her?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess."

"Good."

* * *

Max's bed felt heavenly, like lying on top of a cloud. But for Chloe, that isn't really what made it so great: It was the fact that her crush lie in bed with her, facing her. Their eyes locked together as they talked the night away; The moon shined through the bedroom windows, allowing for just enough light to clearly make out the features on Max's face.

Her eyes, Chloe felt most enamored with.

"...and that's why they're not making another Hawt Dawg Man game."

"That sucks," Max mutedly said.

The pair'd had a great time over the rest of that evening. But in the back of Chloe's mind, she thought about Max's apparent bully, infuriated that anybody would even _dare_ fuck with her.

She couldn't help but think, ' _Whoever doesn't like Max… there's something wrong with 'em.'_

Chloe, with her most gentle voice, asked, "Max, do your parents know about the shit with Emma?"

Max moved a strand of hair from her own face. "They have no clue."

"That… that's not good, dude."

"I'd just prefer they didn't know."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Not know that you're miserable at school? Come on, you can't just keep this bottled up. It's gonna keep building up inside of you until you can't take it anymore."

"I should go tell them, shouldn't I?"

"Uh, _yeah_ … as soon as possible."

Max slightly changed the subject, sweetening her voice, "I didn't say it earlier, but thank you for sticking up for me, Chloe."

Chloe smiled. "It's the least I can do."

' _Not gonna say this, Max, but if you let me, I would've kicked her ass right then and there.'_

Max asked, "So, how's Blackwell going?"

' _Damn… I was hoping she wouldn't ask me that.'_

"Do you want the most honest answer I can give you?"

"Mhm."

Chloe scratched her chin, voice riddled with bitterness, "It's going shit. My grades are fucked and I'm officially the school troublemaker."

"What happened? I thought you were excited about going there."

"Yeah, I _was._ But shit changes, I guess."

Max shifted around on the bed, ending up slightly closer to Chloe. "You know, I wasn't gonna say anything, but you've changed a bit. I mean, what does your shirt say?"

"Cannibal Corpse."

"And that's a band?"

Chloe smirked. "Yeah, death metal."

Max lifted her head from the pillow, hair hanging and still making contact with it. "Name a song for me?"

"Uh... Hammer Smashed Face."

She furrowed her brows with widened eyes. "Whoa…"

Chloe sighed. "Look, if you're gonna lecture me, don't. My Mom and her douchebag boyfriend already do that."

"Wha… wait, Joyce found a boyfriend?"

"Oh shit, I haven't told you, have I?"

"Uh-uh."

Chloe rubbed her forehead, sighing. "Sorry. He's some ex-Army drill sergeant asshole, and my Mom is in love with him."

"Yikes."

"Right? H-hey, I know _I_ brought it up, but I kinda want to stop talking about negative stuff. I don't want this shit hanging over us."

"Sounds like a _great_ idea." One corner of her mouth turned up. "I don't think any amount of negativity is gonna ruin my week with you, though."

"Max, I've never been happier. We're gonna have a bomb-ass week together."

Her head fell back upon the pillow, dreamily sighing. "I love you, Chloe."

"Love you, too."

They both scooted closer to each other. Their breaths synchronized, ratcheting the tension within Chloe to eleven. Her heart pounded and she couldn't take it anymore. She slowly leaned in, closing her eyes, lips nearly connecting.

"I-I'm sorry…" Max pulled back, biting her lip.

Chloe tried again, quickly planting a kiss on her cheek, which Max seemed more open to. "Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight."

They snuggled beneath the blanket. Chloe fell asleep first.

* * *

 **MAX:**

Dim light reflected off the puddles that dotted the sidewalk, as Max walked along it, holding hands with Chloe; their arms swung together.

The sky was overcast; it had just rained, but this didn't stop them from going on a morning walk in the neighborhood before Max's parents had woken up. It was pleasantly breezy, and the smell of fresh rain filled the air. Chattering birds echoed their calls.

All the houses were fairly close together, being smaller in size, but stylish in the sense they were popular with younger families. Located in West Seattle, it happened to be one of the more laid-back areas of the city, and its residents were proud of that.

From where Max and Chloe were in the tree lined neighborhood, it was a fifteen minute walk to what was popularly dubbed "The Junction," a walkable community center full of family friendly restaurants and boutiques - not to mention hipster frequented bars.

They didn't plan to be there for long. Earlier that morning, Max had texted Kristen in hopes of meeting up with her, since she also lived in the area; they agreed on a hip coffee shop.

Max's messenger bag was slung across her body, containing the Polaroid camera Chloe had gifted her. She planned to take a bunch of pictures of her and Chloe - but none of just herself, she wasn't particularly fond of those.

Chloe ran her free hand through her hair, speaking in an upbeat tone, "I like it here. Seriously, I do."

Max responded with a similar tone, "Me too, but I'll always love Arcadia Bay."

Chloe halted, keeping hold of Max's hand, who also stopped. She looked towards the ground and said, "To be honest, I don't really care that much about Arcadia. Sure, we grew up there, but there's nothing special about it anymore." Her eyes met Max's. "I think you're what made it special to me, and when you moved away… it lost that specialness."

' _Aw, she's so sweet.'_

Max fluttered her eyelashes, while bird calls filled the brief gap in their conversation. She smiled. "You can be a _total_ mushball sometimes."

"Watch out, this mushball has spines, like a sea urchin."

"You're such a dork."

"Says the _queen_ of dorks." She gave Max a playful nudge, grinning.

More walking and talking followed until they reached The Junction, discovering it was fairly busy. The two crossed many streets, looking both ways for cars, sharing the sidewalk with bicyclists. They eventually found the coffee shop.

The door opened with a jingle, as Chloe once again held it for Max. They were greeted by a barista who worked behind the counter, his voice mixing with the overall atmosphere of the shop: coffee mugs clinking against plates, idle chatter, coffee beans in grinders, an indie soundtrack. Oddly relaxing.

Sitting alone at one table was a brown haired girl in a hoodie, reading a book with a coffee mug beside it.

Max said to Chloe, "Hey, that's Kristen right there." She held up her hand in greeting, eliciting a reciprocated wave and smile from Kristen.

She sat down across from her and Chloe did as well. Kristen extended her hand, smiling. "Hi, you must be Chloe. Nice to meet you."

She shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, too… _Kristen_ , right?"

"You got it. Max has told me a lot about you."

"Really?"

She dog-eared the page she was on and closed her book. "Yeah, sounds like you guys are _really_ close."

"That's an understatement. We pretty much grew up together."

' _I guess it's time they knew how bad I'm being bullied. No idea why I hid this from anybody.'_ Max really didn't want any more negativity to infiltrate Chloe's visit, but she couldn't bear to hide anything anymore.

Max took in a deep breath, having trouble speaking, "So…uh, Kristen… you…you know how Emma doesn't really… _verbally_ bully me anymore?"

"Yeah." She narrowed her eyes. "Wait _, verbally?"_ She shook her head, keeping her eyes on her. "Don't tell me she hurt you, _please_ don't."

Max frowned, avoiding eye contact with either of them. She got up and solemnly said, "Guys, follow me to the bathroom."

Kristen and Chloe briefly exchanged nervous glances and followed her, just like she asked them to.

The door creaked open. Seeing that nobody else was in the well-cleansed bathroom brought the tiniest ounce of relief to Max; she could speak to Chloe and Kristen more privately now.

Max looked at herself in the mirror, hands on the edges of the sink, vision starting to blur from moisture. The door opened again and in stepped her two friends.

Chloe's voice shook, "Max, you're scaring me."

Kristen added, "Me too."

"Just… look." Max turned to them and pulled up her shirt, not caring if they saw her bra. Blue and purple bruises painted her rib cage.

Kristen gasped, going wide-eyed; Chloe stared, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Max, oh my _god…"_ Kristen said in a harsh whisper.

Max pulled her shirt back down, tears running down her face. Chloe was quick to wipe them for her, using her thumbs. She held Max's head and stared into her eyes with an intensity she'd never seen before. Her voice was raw with anger, "That bitch _did_ that to you?"

Max's face contorted, breaths catching in her throat. "She… she cornered me and just started hitting me. I-I was so scared, I thought she was gonna…" She buried her face in the taller girl's shoulder, full on bawling her eyes out, feeling Chloe's hand hold the back of her head. The sobs made her chest ache even more than it did already.

Kristen's usual bubbly attitude disappeared without a trace; her voice was fierce now, "I'm seriously about to murder Emma."

"Count me the fuck in."

* * *

 **A/N: On a side note - anybody interested in betareading? I think I need it XD  
**


	7. The Troll (2 of 2)

**A/N: Huge thanks to Husky1980 and Wezle21 for beta-reading this chapter!  
**

* * *

 **MAX:**

A warm, steamy shower was what Max really needed to alleviate the accumulated stress of the day. The water soothed her skin, trickling over the bruises she had accumulated from her scuffle with Emma. In a moment of courage, the smaller Max was able to land a few blows on her aggressor's face. But she was quickly overpowered, receiving excruciating blow after excruciating blow.

She still vividly remembered how it felt: breaths that wouldn't enter her lungs, searing pain, a palpitating heart, buckling knees, tunnel vision, tears running down her face.

Wishing someone would just help her, _screaming_ for someone to help her.

No help came. The crowd stood in awe and they recorded _all_ of it. Max knew exactly where to find copies of these videos, but she didn't dare go down _that_ dark alleyway. The memory was bad enough, she didn't need to relive it.

It hurt. Not just the tender bruises, but to think that people would just stand by and watch her be pummeled. Max learned a powerful lesson about society that school day: the meaning of "bystander effect."

It split her heart in two.

She brushed wet fingertips over her rib cage, frowning at how hideous the bruises looked. Her arm fell to her side and swung while a stream of water ran down it, flowing from her hand. Like water turning a water mill, the shower turned cogs in her head that powered negative thoughts.

' _I don't know what to do. Should I show my parents the bruises? No… I can't, they'll lose it. I can't do that to them.'_ Her mind moved back and forth, not really coming to any decision on what to do.

She ran her hands through her hair, taking a step into the shower spray so her back was more exposed to it. Pressure gradually built up in her eyes, hands trembling and knees wobbling. Grief overwhelmed her; she had no choice but to let it out. What began as barely audible whimpers, soon became full on sobs. She sat cross legged on the tiled shower floor, burying her face in her hands.

Her breaths hiccupped, causing her chest to ache more, but it was cathartic at the same time. It's not good to bottle up emotions, and Max knew that. After some time, she wiped her eyes, serving to conclude her crying. Her face still burned red hot, but the shower water doused it.

A few knocks on the bathroom door startled her, causing her to jump slightly.

"Max, you alright?" It was Chloe.

Max replied so quietly that Chloe failed to hear it, "Yeah, I'm fine."

In all seriousness, she _was_ fine. After releasing her sadness and anger, she almost felt euphoric.

"Dude, I'm coming in." The door opened and Max could make out her indistinct silhouette through the blurred glass sliding door.

Max got to her feet, pulling herself up by grabbing onto the wall's built in soap tray. Hair hung over her face in the way Samara's hair from the _Ring_ did, only shorter… and not demonically. She moved it out of the way.

All that could really be seen of Chloe was the color of her clothing: black, black, and black. Max turned off the shower, leaving herself to drip dry and enabling her to better hear her best friend. Though, lately, Max started to wonder if she was _more_ than that.

"Hey, I thought I heard you crying." Chloe's voice echoed around the room.

Max sarcastically replied, "Good to know that your ears are working."

She sighed. "I'm being serious."

"I know. Yeah, I was crying..." She sniffled and wiped her nose. "They just watched. Why did they watch and not _do_ anything?"

"Um… who?"

Max wrapped her arms around herself, turning down the corners of her lips. "The crowd when I was getting beat up. They stood there like idiots and did nothing to help me."

" _Fuck_ , that's really shitty. Sorry that happened to you. Wish I could've been there to stop it."

Max looked towards her feet, surveying the recent coat of red polish on her toenails. "I… I do, too. But it's not your fault. It's mine, for letting it happen."

She raised her voice, "Oh, for fuck…- that's _bullshit_ , Max. It's that bitch Emma's fault."

"Okay, you're right. I can't let her get away with this." She grimaced, looking towards the ceiling. "I mean, she could've _killed_ me."

"Why'd she do it in the first place?"

Max scratched her nose, sighing and letting her arms drop. "I don't know. She acts really weird in class, like… talking to people that aren't there."

"So, she's a fucking psycho, basically?"

She shrugged up a shoulder. "I guess?"

Chloe's silhouette moved around as if she were idly pacing. "Max, I'm gonna help you get through this, just like you helped me when I had _my_ shit going on."

' _So… It's her turn now to be my shoulder to cry on. Wowser.'_

Chloe continued, "You're tougher than you think. Like, _literally_ … your pain tolerance is off the charts. Remember when you twisted your ankle?"

Max's eyes briefly glazed over as she recalled. "Yeah, you carried me all the way home in the rain _and_ I was crying like a baby."

"I don't remember you crying at all. Not even a single tear, and when I first tried to carry you, you said you'd walk home. That's some _bad-assery_ right there."

That didn't ring a bell to her; she narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure we're talking about _me_ here?"

Chloe rapped a few fingers against the glass. "Max, you don't pay enough attention to yourself. In a way, that's a really good thing: you're selfless and gentle and people really like you for that. I know _I_ do. But at the same time, it means you hardly even know _you_."

' _I swear, she really reminds me of both Joyce and William, they'd tell me the same kind of stuff. I'm so lucky to have her.'_

Her face brightened. "Chloe, I think you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Chloe put her hand against the glass, fingers spread apart. Max did the same, putting her handprint against Chloe's.

"Same here, Max - I mean, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, too."

From the time they were young, Max knew that they'd be inseparable. For, like the Earth orbits the Sun, Max's world revolved around Chloe. It was obvious that Chloe felt the same way.

* * *

 **CHLOE:**

Max's head rested upon Chloe's chest, serving as the cloud pillow her weary little angel slept upon. But a storm brewed inside the cloud; rain fell in sheets within her stomach and lightning struck her heart.

It became unbearable; she had to act _now._

Reaching for the nightstand, she grabbed her cellphone and fired off a text message to Kristen, the glow of the screen illuminating her face.

 **Chloe:** Hey, ready to do this?

She set the phone back on the nightstand and stroked Max's hair, evoking small coos from her - ones that made her head rush with happiness. ' _God, she's so cute.'_

A few moments later, the phone buzzed and she picked it up.

 **Kristen:** Yeah i'm all set. When we're done emma's house is gonna be COVERED in toilet paper

The whole idea was that they'd meet at Emma's house and toilet paper the living _shit_ out of it, because it turned out that Kristen knew where it was; she relayed Chloe the directions.

With gritting of the teeth, she thought to herself, ' _Nobody hurts Max without consequences,_ _ **nobody**_ _.'_ She began to slide herself out from beneath Max, taking care not to wake her. She failed.

Max whined and clumsily lifted her head, squinting at Chloe through tired eyes. She mumbled, "Whereya gohmm…"

Chloe stopped and furrowed her eyebrows, taking a moment to understand what she said. " _Oh_ , I'm going to the bathroom, be right back."

A little white lie, of course. _'I_ _want it to be a surprise, because I plan to show her Emma's freshly tp'ed house when we're done with it.'_

Max's head drooped back upon the bed, signaling it was time to go. After throwing on some better clothes, she opened and closed the door, sneaking through the hallway and out of the house. Right away, visibility was an issue. The humidity of that night created a thick fog that crept along the streets. Weather-beaten street lamps dimly lit her path on the cracked sidewalk, and she took one hell of a wrong turn and found herself disoriented. Darkness reached out a hand and shielded Chloe's eyes.

 _'What happened to the streetlamps? They just died out and now I can't see shit!'_

Her legs became jelly and her skin froze over. The fine hairs on her neck were needles. She gulped and stared through the inky void that surrounded her, inhaling mist with ever quickening breaths. Past the thumping in her temples was nothing but maddening silence, and each second that passed was a second closer to panicking.

With a frustrated snort, she thought, _'Why the fuck did I_ _ **not**_ _bring a flashlight? This is ridiculous.'_

She fumbled for her phone and dialed a number with flying thumbs. The phone rang once… twice, before Kristen answered it.

"Hey, Chloe. Where are you?"

She steadied herself against a dead streetlamp to her side, hoodie sleeve being dampened by unseen droplets of water that dotted it. "No idea, and I'm about to freak the hell out!"

"Uh… what do you see right now?"

"That's the thing: I _can't_ see."

"Really? Like it's too dark?"

She huffed and sarcastically replied, "No, I'm blindfolded - _Yes,_ it's too dark!"

"Are you in an area where the streetlights don't work?'

Chloe wondered how she even knew that. She just attributed it to her knowledge of the area.

"Yeah."

"Okay, sit tight. I know exactly where you are."

The tightly-wound spring within Chloe unraveled as she let out a sigh of relief. "Just hurry, please," she pleaded.

The call ended; through the grains in her vision, memories began to form.

 _..._

 _Max twisted the corkscrew as far as it would go, gripping the handle and pausing, nibbling on her bottom lip as the wine bottle sat on the kitchen counter._

 _Chloe tapped her foot, growing increasingly impatient. "Come on, open it chicken!"_

" _Hold on." With a grunt she pulled the cork out. The bottle clinked against the counter as she did, causing the red tinted wine to violently slosh around inside. "And I'm not chicken!"_

" _Prove it! You drink first, Max!"_

" _No way! It was your idea, Chloe!"_

" _Whateva. Give me that bottle."_

 _Max slid it over and Chloe gripped the bottleneck, picking it up with both hands and tilting it into her mouth just to taste. Slightly bitter, but it was basically the same as grape juice._

" _Well?"_

 _She quit sipping and wiped away a small dribble from her lip. "Tasty. Very tasty."_

 _The smaller girl motioned for the bottle. "Here, I want a sip!"_

 _Chloe stepped back and held the bottle against her chest. "Sorry, this is not for kids."_

" _Don't be greedy!" Max reached for it. "Gimme some!"_

 _With a grin on her face, Chloe ran out of the kitchen and around the living room; Max chased her, continually trying to grab the bottle. Near the couch, she finally got ahold of it, resulting in a tug-of-war with Chloe. Being slightly weaker, Max's grip on the bottle loosened and caused Chloe to yank it back towards herself, dumping quite a bit of it on the carpet._

 _Chloe froze, eyes widened. "Oh shit, the carpet!"_

 _Max stared at the fresh stain, slouching. "There's wine all over! What do we do now?"_

" _My parents are coming! Cover it up…"_

' _Man, we were so innocent. I miss those days. Dad was still alive… I was naïve, ignorant… happier.'_ Not that she wasn't happy then, her relationship with Max was going in a new, exciting direction and she was ecstatic over it. But that was the only thing she was truly happy about, and it was all she needed.

Like a cloud of smoke blown away by the wind, her flashback faded away when she eyed a yellow beam of light cutting through the fog.

"Kristen, is that you?" She yelled. The beam swung onto her, illuminating her immediate area.

She yelled back, "Yeah, it's me. How did you even-" She yelped, tripping and thudding against the concrete. The sharp impact of shattering plastic cracked the death-still air and the light died. "Fuck! Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow."

"Shit, are you okay?"

She croaked, getting back up, "Uh huh, but... the flashlight isn't."

Chloe groaned and looked up at the stars, only barely managing to see them. "Oh, that's just fucking perfect. Now _neither_ of us can see."

Kristen's voice cracked with every syllable, "This is bad, _really really_ bad."

"Ya _think?"_

Chloe became aware of the faintest sound of whimpering. She took a deep breath, pressed her lips together, and said, "I'm coming towards you." She took many careful steps forward, losing the street lamp to support herself and her wobbly legs. The whimpering gradually got louder, before turning into jagged breaths. She tried to pinpoint her location through the sounds, which were actually proving to be helpful in finding her. ' _Don't stop crying, Kristen. Don't stop crying.'_ The sound came right within reach; she grabbed at something soft and warm.

"Uh, Chloe? You're… you're touching my boob."

She yanked her hand back like she'd touched a hot stove, face aflame. "Sorry, dude. You okay?"

Kristen sniffled. "Yeah, I'm just _really_ scared of the dark."

She grinned, empathizing one-hundred percent. "Kristen, you should've seen _me._ I was about to have a fuckin' panic attack."

"Heh, _seen."_

She rolled her blind eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah. So… what now?"

"I say we call it, this is a bad fucking night to be out."

Kristen audibly scratched at some part of her body, voice still shaky, "I completely agree with you. What was I _thinking?"_

"I dunno, but I'll tell you what _I_ was thinking: Emma's gonna get what's coming to her."

She lowered her voice, "Just not tonight…"

"Guess not…" Chloe scratched her lip, bitterly saying, "...as pissed off as that makes me."

For a while Chloe just stood there, grinding the gears in her head to figure a way out of this predicament. An idea nearly presented itself to her, like a turtle poking out its head from beneath its shell. She was the predatory bird rearing to strike, but like the turtle, the idea retreated deep into the shell that was her gray matter at the sound of Kristen's voice.

"Uhhhh, this might sound like a weird question… but can we like, hold hands or something so we don't lose each other?"

It _was_ a pretty weird question to Chloe, but it made sense. She didn't want to get separated again.

"Alright, sure. If… I can _find_ your hand."

After reaching around in the dark, she felt Kristen's clammy hand ravel around hers. They started to walk, taking great care not to trip over something. With slow steps, they walked until the light from a street lamp gradually faded in. It was akin to a sunrise at midnight for Chloe, and the feeling of liberation could be sensed at the visceral level. Kristen released Chloe's hand as they continued to walk.

Chloe's pupils painfully dilated at the introduction of light. "Jesus Christ. Remind me not to forget a flashlight next time."

Kristen looked towards the sky, holding her hands in mock prayer. "Hello? Jesus Christ? Remind Chloe not to forget a flashlight next time, please?"

"Ha ha, very funny." She dryly chuckled.

"Anyways, do you know how to get back to Max's house from-" She was interrupted by the ringing of Chloe's phone. "Oh, someone's calling you."

She halted her stride, reaching into her pocket. "Yeah, might be _her."_

As soon as she answered, Max's voice burned with frustration, "Just going to the _bathroom_ , Chloe?"

She sighed, bit her lip, and said, "Max, I… I'll explain it to you when I get back."

"No, you lied to me! Explain it n-"

She clasped the flip-phone shut. Doing so caused pangs of guilt to burn a hole in her chest.

Kristen asked, "She's not happy, is she?"

The tall blonde shook her head. "No, not really."

The phone rang again, causing Chloe to wince. "Fuck."

"Sounds like you should hurry."

"Yeah… see you around, Kristen." She waved.

"See ya later." Kristen reciprocated the gesture.

On a T intersection, Chloe went right and Kristen went left. She made it back to Max's house without a single issue.

With a lump in her throat that could not be swallowed down, she opened the bedroom door. A lamp beside Max's bed was on, casting stark shadows across the doe-eyed brunette's face. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door; at the sight of Chloe, she stood up and walked to her, ending up face-to-face with the taller blonde.

Max blinked her eyes, simply asking, "Where'd you go?"

Chloe dodged the question, looking away. "Around, Max. It's nothing."

"Che, look. I'm not mad. Just wondering where you went."

She felt confused. "It really sounded like you _were_ mad, though."

"Okay, maybe a _little_ bit, but that's because I was worrying about you."

She rubbed her neck and chuckled, regaining the ability to look Max in the eyes. "I know. Heh, I was worried about myself too. I've never been that lost in my life."

Max sighed. "So what _did_ you sneak out for?"

Exactly the question she was hoping not to be asked, but at this point, it was inevitable.

She fidgeted with her hoodie string. "Kristen and I... were planning to get back at Emma for hurting you. So, we um… we were gonna tp her house."

Max tilted her head. "Kristen was with you?"

Chloe put her hands on Max's shoulders. " _Yeah_ , dude. We're both really fucking pissed about what Emma did to you."

"I mean, same here, but how is tp'ing her house gonna make anything better? You'll just be stooping to her level."

Chloe released Max's shoulders. "Her level is about as low as somebody could get." She put her hands on her own hips. "Even if I tried, I'd never be able to drop to it."

Max briefly smiled. "I really appreciate what you and Kristen are trying to do for me, I'm cereal about that. But, I have my own idea on how to deal with this and I think it might actually work." She looked towards the ground with a sly grin.

Chloe lowered herself to Max's height with bent legs, trying to get a better look. "Uh… what's that smile?"

"Kindness... I'm gonna kill her with kindness."

"You can't be…" She used air quotes. "'Cereal' right now."

Max looked up at Chloe. "Why not?"

She threw out her arms and stood at her normal height. "Because somebody like Emma doesn't even know what kindness _is_."

"That's exactly my point, Chloe. I'm gonna _show_ her what kindness is."

It clicked. Total fucking _genius_. ' _Take somebody that doesn't know kindness and give it to them. What happens? They burst into tears!'_

Chloe smiled, slowly shaking her head. "Dude, if that works I'm kissing you."

Max took a step forward. "What's stopping you from doing it now?"

With the flick of a switch, she remembered Max saying _exactly_ this: ' _I guess I owe you a kiss the next time I see you.'_

Chloe held up her index finger. "You know what? I just remembered something: On the phone a while back, you said you owed me a kiss the next time you saw me. So…" She smiled and winked. "I'm waiting."

"Wait no more." Max stood on her tiptoes and leaned in, closing her eyes.

Their lips connected and Chloe felt a pleasant tingling radiate from her stomach all the way to her head, akin to that "roller coaster" feeling. Her eyes shut, taking in the sheer thrill of what was happening as she became increasingly drunk over a cocktail of so many crazy emotions at once. This moment seemed to last forever, and Chloe wished it would, but she had to come up for air at some point or she'd drown in happiness. She slowly pulled back and reopened her eyelids, just as the hipster did, whose eyes now shimmered like the sun over the deep blue sea.

Max fell back upon her bare heels, dreamily sighing and smiling all the while. "Wowser… _That_ was nice."

Chloe's heart thudded in her chest as she smiled back. "It sure was."

Shortly after, they fell asleep in much the same position as before: Chloe the Cloud and Max the Angel.

* * *

 **MAX:**

No _wonder_ Chloe got lost on the way to Emma's house, the road that led down her neighborhood was easy to miss, well hidden in plain sight by the sheer generic appearance of it; all the other streets looked identical.

The brunette and the blonde actually walked past it at first but once they realized their error, they doubled back and went the correct way.

There was one defining feature that stood out in the bright daylight: the faded yellow " _children at play"_ sign appeared as if a baseball bat had been used on it, leaving it bent and mangled. ' _Emma must've done that. Not surprised.'_

Compared to Max's neighborhood, this one was much more bleak: not a single tree in sight, lawns unkempt and yellowing from neglect, and the aging houses themselves looked as if they'd seen better days.

But it was right next to a park, so that was a plus.

Chloe warily eyed their surroundings as they walked, holding Max's hand. "You sure about this, dude?"

She squeezed Chloe's hand tighter as they walked past a dead, rustling bush. It almost felt as if some unseen pair of eyes was upon both of them. "No, not really."

This was Max's idea: to personally visit Emma's house and be as disgustingly kind as possible. She wasn't even sure what the outcome would be, but she hoped it would be a good one.

Max's mind was elsewhere. Last night's kiss was playing on a loop in her head, still reeling with disbelief over how she'd just kissed her best friend… and enjoyed it, no less. She'd always expected a boy to be her first kiss, so having it be Chloe felt very odd but so _right_ at the same time.

But Life is Strange like that, and she couldn't be happier.

Chloe dragged her feet, eventually halting altogether and momentarily letting go of Max's hand. She scratched her head. "Shit, I'm trying to remember which house it was that Kristen told me about."

Max nodded, yawning and adjusting the bangles on her wrist. Not that she was bored with what Chloe was doing, but she didn't sleep that much the previous night. Still, there she was, looking to confront her bully.

Somewhat unbeknownst to Chloe, Max knew that Emma most certainly struggled with a mental illness of some sort, since the girl would actually have crying meltdowns in class fairly often. Her bully had a habit of wearing long sleeved shirts exclusively, but on some occasions Max was able to catch glimpses of her wrists and forearms: absolutely _covered_ in slitting scars, many of which were freshly scabbed over. They were _deep_ , too; Max could tell.

It was all a damned shame, really, because Emma was actually a _very_ pretty girl. One of those rare natural redheads _and_ green-eyed? It was safe to say she was genetically blessed.

Yet, as terribly as she treated Max, she couldn't help but feel concerned about her. It only takes _one_ mistake to nick an artery and with how deep her cuts went, it was only a matter of time before she slipped.

At the same time, Max feared she'd do it on _purpose_.

"Hey, I think that yellow-ish one is her house." Chloe pointed ahead and to the right slightly. "Right there."

Max leaned in and squinted. "It might be. I'm gonna see what the last name on the mailbox is when we get closer."

Her hand found its way into Chloe's again and she began to walk, almost pulling the blonde with her. Strangely, she wasn't all that nervous. Maybe because, for once, she had a bit of self confidence; being with Chloe seemed to do that to her.

"Dude, if something goes wrong," Chloe held up a clenched fist. "I'll be right there to fuck Emma up."

"Let's just hope that isn't necessary."

After walking several feet on crumbly sidewalk, they stood before what should be Emma's house. ' _Huh, Pelletier.'_ Max read the name on the mailbox and said, "Yeah, this is her house."

"You _sure_ you don't want me to punch her in the face or something?"

"Yes, Chloe. I'm sure."

"Okay, I'll just hang out back here." Chloe's hand once again left her grasp as the taller girl stayed by the mailbox. "You got this, Max. I believe in you."

The hipster managed to flash Chloe a small smile before approaching Emma's front door. The few wooden steps leading to it creaked and groaned as she loosely held on to the railing, which terminated onto a porch. She gulped and rang the doorbell, taking a step back and waiting. The door opened with a whoosh of air and sure enough, Emma peered from behind it, barefoot and in pajamas.

"Max?"

She jammed her hands into her pockets. "Hi, Emma."

"What're you doing here?"

"I just want to talk to you."

The redhead closed the door behind herself, blinking at the girl before her. "Talk then."

Max lifted her chin. "I want this stuff that's going on between us to end. You're better than this."

"Whaddaya mean I'm 'better than this?' You don't know me."

"I mean that it's possible for you to change."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows and glanced towards Chloe, gesturing with her head. "Why'd you bring _her?"_

"Because, I'm not going anywhere without her."

" _Real_ cute. Now, are you done wasting my time?"

Max sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling frustrated that this might not be so easy. "Do you know what it feels like to get beat up while everybody else is watching?"

"No, uh…" she blinked a few times. "No."

Max knew this was a lie; Kristen had kicked Emma's ass in a fight and others were _certainly_ watching.

Max lowered her eyebrows. "Well, it doesn't feel very good."

"Boo-fucking-hoo."

She grit her teeth, tightly pressing her lips together. ' _This doesn't feel like it's working.'_

"What's with your arms, anyways?" Max asked.

Emma shrunk back. "None of your business."

"Those are cuts, aren't they?"

"That's it, we're fucking done here. Go fuck yourself." Emma stepped back through the door and tried to slam it.

Max caught the door with her hand, making her palm sting. "Wait," she said, tensing up with shame over having asked that. "Look, I'm not trying to be a bitch about it, but you're kinda worrying me with that stuff. Even if you're not that nice to me."

She glared through the crack in the door. "Why the fuck would _you_ , out of all people, be worried about _me?"_

"Because you're a fellow human being and I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"You…" She sighed. "I think you're the first person to actually _give_ a shit."

Hearing that made Max simultaneously feel sorry for Emma, but it also made her internally whoop with victory over having cracked her shell.

"Is that really true?" she asked. "Does nobody else care?"

"No," Emma stepped completely out from behind the door again, leaving it open. "Not even my dad. He gave up on me a while ago."

The innermost corners of Max's eyebrows raised. "I'm really sorry."

"Not your fault. I… I mean, I did it to myself. I asked for it."

"Don't blame yourself, Emma. It's not your fault either."

Her eyes welled up, voice beginning to crack. "Then whose is it?"

Max rubbed her own arm. "It's nobody's fault. Whatever you're dealing with that makes you feel this way, just know that I'm always able to talk to you if you need."

"I guess I'll tell you what it is... if that's fine."

"Of course."

She took a deep breath. "A few years ago, I lost my best friend." Her lower lip quivered as her voice rapidly grew shaky. "And even after _all_ this time... it hasn't gotten any easier."

Hearing this made Max's stomach flip over. "Whoa… I had no idea. I'm _really_ sorry you had to go through that."

Emma's mouth opened and closed shakily, and then her face contorted. Tears flowed from her eyes, whimpering and losing all control of her emotions, which poured out between sobs. She tried to hide her eyes with one hand, steadying herself on the door frame with the other.

Max felt her own eyes begin to tear up out of empathy, yet she remained unsure of what to do. ' _Should I try to comfort her, or should I just leave her be?'_ She opted to remain silent, feeling her body shudder from hearing and seeing someone else break down in front of her.

"I'm sorry…" Emma wiped her eyes, letting her hand slide off the doorframe, coming to rest at her thigh. 'It's just… it still hurts, and I can't control my anger."

Max began to think about losing Chloe in a situation like that, causing a few tears to run down her cheeks. "I can't imagine how awful that must've been for you."

Emma sniffled. "You know what, Max? You're alright. Sorry for…" she visibly swallowed. "...doing all this terrible shit to you. Never again."

"I forgive you." Max managed a smile, but hidden behind the upturned corners of her mouth was a _whole_ lot of pity. "Take care of yourself, Emma."

"Yeah…" her mouth _barely_ turned into a smile. "You too." She turned around and went back inside, gently shutting the door.

Max took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and went back down the wooden steps towards the mailbox that Chloe leaned an elbow against. Once their eyes met, she left the mailbox and met Max halfway.

"Dude, was she crying?"

Max nodded, bearing an enigmatic smile. "Yeah, I killed her with kindness, just like I said I would."

Chloe toothily smiled, patting her on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

"Me too. Now, let's go home before my parents notice we're gone."

* * *

 **A/N: I don't know why I named this two part chapter "The Troll" in the first place.**


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